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PUZZLING PEPITA 


BOOKS BY NINA RHOADES 

MARION’S VACATION. Illustrated. Cloth. $1.75 
DOROTHY BROWN. Illustrated. Cloth. $1.75 
VICTORINE’S BOOK. Illustrated. Cloth. $1.75 
THE GIRL FROM ARIZONA. Illustrated. $1.75 
THE INDEPENDENCE OF NAN. Illustrated. $1.75 
WHEN GRETEL WAS FIFTEEN. Illustrated. $1.75. 


FOR YOUNGER READERS 

“The Brick House Books” 

The sight of the brick house on the cover makes girl 
readers happy at once. —Indianapolis News. 

Illustrated. Large 12mo. Cloth. $1.50 each. 

ONLY DOLLIE 

THE LITTLE GIRL NEXT DOOR 

WINIFRED’S NEIGHBORS 

THE CHILDREN ON THE TOP FLOOR 

HOW BARBARA KEPT HER PROMISE 

LITTLE MISS ROSAMOND 

PRISCILLA OF THE DOLL SHOP 

BRAVE LITTLE PEGGY 

THE OTHER SYLVIA 

MAISIE'S MERRY CHRISTMAS 

LITTLE QUEEN ESTHER 

MAKING MARY LIZZIE HAPPY 

A REAL CINDERELLA 

NORA’S TWIN SISTER 

FOUR GIRLS OF FORTY YEARS AGO 

PUZZLING PEPITA 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 

BOSTON 








Pepita was pleasantly conscious of the fact that she was 
CREATING A SENSATION.— Page 151. 


























PUZZLING PEPITA 


By 

NINA RHOADES 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

ELIZABETH WITHINGTON 


i ) 

> i f> 



BOSTON 

LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 
















Copyright, 1923, 

By Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co* 

All Rights Reserved 

Puzzling Pepita 

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A 

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©C1A711793 

Printed in U. S. A. 


Iftorwoofc fl>ress 

BERWICK & SMITH CO. 
Norwood, Mass. 


SEP 10 ’23 





CONTENTS 


I. 

Pepita’s Home . 

• 

• 

9 

II. 

Pepita Breaks Bounds 



30 

III. 

Going to a Bull-Fight . 



49 

IV. 

The Letter from America 



70 

V. 

Portsmouth and Aunt Jane 



85 

VI. 

Pepita’s New Home . 



105 

VII. 

The First Sunday 



126 

VIII. 

Pepita Falls Into Disgrace 



143 

IX. 

Rosy. 



161 

X. 

Pepita’s Grand Scheme 



181 

XI. 

Miss Dale Settles Difficulties 


199 

XII. 

News from Seville . 



217 

XIII. 

Abdul’s Party . 



233 

XIV. 

Breakers Ahead 



247 

XV. 

In the Attic . 



261 

XVI. 

The Worry of a Secret 



280 

XVII. 

Pepita Keeps Her Promise 



300 

XVIII. 

Conclusion 

• 

• 

317 


5 






ILLUSTRATIONS 

Pepita was pleasantly conscious of the 
fact that she was creating a sen¬ 
sation (Page 151) . . . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 

The Irishwoman sprang upon the chair . 28 

Pepita laughed triumphantly, and proceeded 

to lift the cover from Abdul’s basket . 102 

Pepita blushed more than ever, and her eyes 

drooped.198 

Pepita’s heart gave one great bound . . 242 

He regarded the food rather dubiously 288 


7 


i 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


CHAPTER I 

pepita's home 

I T was very hot in Seville. All day the sun had 
beaten down its scorching rays upon the streets 
of the beautiful little city, and everybody who 
could do so had remained indoors. The few people 
in the streets tried to secure what shade they could 
beneath the awnings which shaded some of the 
principal thoroughfares, or sought relief by keeping 
as close as possible to the tallest buildings. Even 
the shrill voices of the water-sellers sounded faint 
and drowsy, and the big clock on the cathedral 
tower chimed out the quarters as if it were tired. 

But in the inner court of Senor Lopez’s house, 
where the fountain played all day, it was compara¬ 
tively cool, and it was here that Pepita and her 
cousin Ines had betaken themselves as soon as the 
midday meal was over, and, curling up on the big 
divan, had taken their siesta, which is what people 
in Spain call an afternoon nap. Pepita was the 
first to wake, and, having sat up and rubbed her 
eyes, began to cast about for some form of amuse¬ 
ment. She was seldom at a loss for amusement, 

9 


10 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


and in a moment her black eyes began to dance with 
mischief. Leaning forward, she picked up the 
feather fan her aunt had accidentally left behind 
when she went away to her room, and began tick¬ 
ling Ines’ nose softly with one of the long feathers. 
Ines moved slightly, half opened her eyes, mur¬ 
mured something inarticulate, and prepared to go to 
sleep again. But Pepita did nothing by halves. A 
moment’s silence, and again the long feather was 
applied to the tip of Ines’ pink little nose. This 
time Ines opened her eyes altogether, and sat up. 

“ The flies are very troublesome to-day,” she re¬ 
marked innocently. “ Did they wake you, too? ” 

“ No,” answered Pepita, carefully replacing the 
fan where she had found it, “ but it’s time to wake 
up; we’ve been asleep for hours.” 

Ines yawned. 

“ One may as well sleep as do anything else,” 
she said. “ One forgets the heat when one is 
asleep.” 

Both little girls spoke in Spanish, which was their 
native language, but there was a great difference in 
their appearance. Ines was small and frail, with 
big, dreamy eyes, and a languid manner, like her 
mother; while Pepita, though only six months older, 
was at least half a head taller, and her little dark 
face was full of animation. The two had been 
companions and playmates ever since they were 
three years old, when, on the death of Pepita’s 


PE PITA'S HOME 


II 


pretty young mother, her father, who was a captain 
in the navy, had brought her to his wife’s sister, to 
be brought up in the old house with the high-walled 
garden, where her family had lived for two genera¬ 
tions. 

At her cousin’s remark Pepita shrugged her 
shoulders impatiently. 

“ I can’t sleep all day, even if it is hot,” she 
objected. “ Let us play one of the new games 
Uncle Miguel brought us from Madrid.” 

But Ines protested that it was much too hot for 
games, and seemed disposed to settle herself for 
another nap. Pepita heaved an impatient sigh. 

“Very well, let us talk then, if you won’t do 
anything else,” she said. “ Let us talk about 
Perico. What shall we do to amuse him when he 
comes home next week ? ” 

Ines began to look a little more interested. 

“ I hope it will be cooler then,” she said. “ Per¬ 
ico is so energetic he will want us to play all sorts 
of games, and it makes me ill to exert myself in the 
heat.” 

“ It doesn’t make me ill,” declared Pepita rather 
scornfully, “ but do you suppose Perico will care 
for games now that he has been a whole year at the 
naval academy? He is fifteen, you know. Per¬ 
haps he will be quite grown-up, and refuse to have 
anything to do with us.” 

Ines looked troubled. 


12 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Oh, I hope not,” she said anxiously. “ It would 
be very sad if Perico did not care for us any more. 
We used to have such good times together. I think 
Perico always liked you best, Pepita, even though 
I am his sister and you are only his cousin.” 

“ I am just the same as his sister,” said Pepita, 
reddening, as she always did at any mention of the 
fact that she was not a Lopez. “ Aunt Dolores 
says she loves us all three just alike, and so does 
Uncle Miguel.” 

“ Yes, that is true, but you cannot give us all your 
heart, because you have a father of your own; and 
when he comes to see you, you will have to love him 
just as much as Perico and I love Papa and 
Mamma.” 

Pepita bit her lip, and tapped one little foot im¬ 
patiently on the marble floor. 

“ He has not come for a long time,” she said. 
“ Perhaps he will never come again. I hope he will 
not, because then I can always belong to Aunt 
Dolores and Uncle Miguel.” 

“ But he will come,” persisted Ines in her gentle, 
languid voice. “ His ship is away on a long cruise 
now, but by and by it will come home, and then 
perhaps-” 

“ Perhaps what?” demanded Pepita sharply, as 
her cousin paused. 

“ Perhaps he will come and take you away to live 
with him in America.” 



PEPITA'S HOME 


13 


Pepita sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing in¬ 
dignantly. 

“ I will never go to America,” she cried; “ no one 
shall make me, not even my father. America is a 
cold, cruel country; it killed my mamma. Grand¬ 
mother told me so once before she died, and when I 
asked Aunt Dolores, she cried, and said my mamma 
was a noble, suffering martyr. I don’t think my 
father can be a kind person, or he would never have 
taken her to that dreadful country. I will never go 
to America.” 

“ But it was his home, and perhaps he did not 
think it would kill her,” suggested Ines, who could 
never bear to have people blamed. “ I am sure he 
must have loved her very much, she was so beauti¬ 
ful, and Mamma says he was quite heart-broken 
when she died.” 

But Pepita was not convinced. 

“If he loved her, he should not have taken her 
to that terrible country,” she persisted firmly. 
“ Grandmother said she was never well there, and 
when I was only three years old she died and went 
to heaven. I can’t remember my father very well; 
I was only seven when he came here the last time; 
but I know he was very big, and had a loud voice, 
not at all like Uncle Miguel’s.” 

“ I remember him a little, too,” said Ines slowly. 
“ I think he was rather kind. Don’t you remember 
the beautiful dolls he brought us? You broke 


*4 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


yours very soon, but I kept mine for a long 
time.” 

Before Pepita could answer, there was a sound 
of approaching footsteps, and a stout, middle-aged 
woman came down the steps into the court from 
the balcony above. 

“ Ah, here ye are, Pepita darlin’,” she said, 
speaking in English, but with a strong Irish accent. 
“ I’ve been lookin’ for ye all over the place. Oh, 
but this is a powerful hot day! ” And with a sigh 
of exhaustion, she dropped down on the divan be¬ 
tween the two children. Ines rose. 

“ I am going to see if Mamma is awake,” she 
said, beginning to move towards the stairs. 

Pepita gave her cousin a reproachful glance. 

“ I wish you would stay,” she said. “ You know 
I hate to be left with Mrs. O’Dowd alone.” 

But Ines was resolute. 

“ I don’t like to hear people talk English,” she 
said; “ it’s so ugly.” 

“ What’s she sayin’, darlin’ ? ” inquired Mrs. 
O’Dowd, suspiciously. Her knowledge of Span¬ 
ish was somewhat limited, and she was a little 
deaf. 

“ She says she does not like to hear the English,” 
said Pepita. 

Mrs. O’Dowd shook her head, and made a click¬ 
ing sound with her tongue. 

“ That’s too bad of her now,” she murmured. 


PEP IT A'S HOME 


15 


“ Maybe she’ll be sorry some day, when she’s a 
grown-up young lady. Maybe she’ll want to cross 
the seas with you to America, where they don’t 
talk anything but English.” 

“ I shall never cross the seas,” declared Pepita, 
with an indignant stamp of her little foot. 

Mrs. O’Dowd smiled a superior smile. 

“ Just wait till your papa sends for you one of 
these fine days,” she said; “ then you’ll see. And 
if you don’t talk English like a real American young 
lady, he’ll be thinkin’ shame of you, after all the 
advantages you’ve had. Suppose I’d said I 
wouldn’t learn Spanish when me husband’s regiment 
was quartered at Gibraltar. What would have be¬ 
come of me after the dear sergeant was carried off 
sudden with pneumonia? There wasn’t a penny 
left but his pension. I wouldn’t be here now, 
teachin’ you to speak your father’s language.” 

Mrs. O’Dowd was fond of hearing her own voice, 
and often talked on, quite oblivious as to whether 
her pupil understood her or not; but Pepita was not 
by any means a stupid child, and during the year in 
which Mrs. O’Dowd had been a member of her 
aunt’s household, she had really learned more Eng¬ 
lish than she was always willing to admit. On the 
present occasion she understood a good part, if not 
all, of the Irish woman’s remarks, but she had no 
intention of giving in without an argument. 

“ Spanish is a beautiful language,” she main- 


i6 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


tained; “ any one would be proud to learn it, but 
English is ugly, and I hate it.” 

Mrs. O’Dowd, who was a good-natured, easy¬ 
going person, and seldom lost her temper, took ref¬ 
uge in her usual method of coaxing. 

“ Now don’t be obstinate, dearie,” she urged. 
“ It’s too hot to fight. I’ve got the book, and you’re 
goin’ to read a bit, like the jewel you are.” 

Mrs. O’Dowd produced from her capacious 
pocket a little book, on the cover of which was 
printed in large letters, “ Simple Poems for Begin¬ 
ners in English.” 

“ Here’s me mark,” she said, hastily turning over 
the pages. “ If you read this pretty little piece all 
right, I’ve got somethin’ lovely to tell you.” 

“ What is it? ” inquired Pepita, beginning to look 
interested. 

“ Read first, and then I’ll tell ye,” said the 
teacher, and Pepita, with a resigned sigh, took the 
book, and began in a slow, singsong voice: 

“ How does zie leetle busy bee 
Improve each shining hour? 

He gazers honey all zie day, 

From every opening flower.” 

“ What does 1 shining hour ’ mean, Mrs. 
O’Dowd?” 

“ Sure, it means the time of day. What else 
should it mean? ” 


PE PITA'S HOME 


17 


“ Does it mean the part of the day when the sun 
shines ? ” demanded Pepita, who had a fondness for 
detail. 

“ I suppose so, but it’s just poetry, and you never 
know what the words mean in poetry. Now go on, 
and read the rest of the piece, like a good girl.” 

Pepita sighed again, but complied. She did not 
find learning her father’s language under Mrs. 
O’Dowd’s tuition very inspiring. Lessons with 
Mademoiselle, the pretty French governness, were 
much more interesting, but Mademoiselle had been 
called back to France to care for her sick mother, 
and the children were having an unexpected holi¬ 
day. Poor Mrs. O’Dowd had no mother, and no 
home, and since the death of her husband, the ser¬ 
geant, had been quite alone in the world. She had 
been engaged by Sehora Lopez, who, knowing no 
English herself, considered that she had been most 
fortunate in securing the services of such a faithful 
instructress for her little niece, whose American 
father had stipulated that a thorough knowledge of 
the English language should form an important part 
of her education. 

Having finished the last line of “ The Busy Bee,” 
without correction from Mrs. O’Dowd, who, in¬ 
deed, looked almost as much relieved as her pupil 
when the reading lesson was over, Pepita demanded 
eagerly: “Now tell me the lovely thing.” 

Mrs. O’Dowd hesitated. 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


l8 


“ Just one more little piece,” she coaxed, but 
Pepita was obdurate. 

“ You said when this one was finished,” she pro¬ 
tested. “ I think I am very good to read at all in 
this hot weather.” 

“ Well, then, it’s this,” said Mrs. O’Dowd, yield¬ 
ing as she usually did, “ Madam wants me to take 
some things up to the tower this afternoon, and she 
says you and Ines can come with me if you like.” 

Pepita sprang to her feet with alacrity. A visit 
to the family who lived away up in the great tower 
of the cathedral, where the father, Sebastian Fer¬ 
rara, rang the bells half a dozen times a day, was 
a joy to her heart. Pepita secretly considered the 
tower of the Giralda a much more desirable abode 
than her uncle’s house, surrounded by the high- 
walled garden. At least one could see things from 
the tower, and she had told Ines that she was sure 
Agustina and Rafaelo Ferrara had a much pleas¬ 
anter life than she had, even though Rafaelo was a 
cripple, and never came down from the tower except 
when his father carried him down on his back to 
attend some special service in the cathedral. Pepita 
was a sociable child, and often chafed under her 
aunt’s firm though gentle rule. 

“ I don’t see why we are so much better than 
other people,” she would grumble to Ines. “ I am 
sure, the children who play in the streets all the 
evening, and dance to the hurdy-gurdies, have a 


PEP IT A S HOME 


19 


much more interesting life than we do.” To which 
Ines, who was a very obedient child, and never 
objected to conventions, would reply gently, “ But 
we are aristocrats; we cannot act as the common 
people do.” 

Pepita loved Ines dearly, but there were times 
when she found her gentle little cousin a bit un¬ 
sympathetic. Perico, Ines’ older brother, was in 
many ways more congenial, but Perico had gone 
away to the naval academy for a year of study be¬ 
fore taking his place as midshipman on board a man- 
of-war. The past week had been extremely hot, 
and the children had not been allowed to stir beyond 
the precincts of the garden, so it was not surprising 
that the prospect of a walk in the town, to say noth¬ 
ing of a visit to the Giralda Tower, should have 
been hailed by Pepita as a most welcome break in 
the monotony of everyday life. 

Senora Ferrara, the mother of Agustina and 
Rafaelo, had, in the days before her marriage, been 
maid to Pepita’s grandmother, hence Aunt Dolores’ 
continued interest in the family. Indeed, Rafaelo 
was her godson, and the crippled boy was fed by 
many a dainty sent from the Lopez household. 
Rafaelo was a great favorite with all the Lopez 
family. Agustina—who was already sixteen—was 
being trained as a lady’s maid. It was no uncommon 
occurrence for Pepita and Ines, accompanied by 
either Mrs. O’Dowd or one of the maids—some- 


20 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


times even by Senora Lopez herself—to climb the 
high tower laden with a basket of dainties for Ra- 
faelo, who was far too delicate for the coarse 
black bread and sour wine on which the rest of his 
family seemed to thrive. These visits were always 
exciting, especially to Pepita, who loved any kind of 
adventure. The steep climb up the tower was not 
by steps, but by a long, winding passage, with 
windows at every turn through which they could 
look down on the city far below. The colony of 
pigeons, through which they had to pass, were so 
tame that they would sometimes alight on one’s arm 
or shoulder, in the hope that one had brought them 
something to eat. Lastly, and most interesting of 
all, was the queer little home in the very top of the 
tower, right under the great bells. It was always 
exciting if the bells happened to ring during one of 
their visits, for the noise was so deafening it was 
almost impossible to hear any one speak. Agustina 
and Rafaelo declared that they were so accustomed 
to the noise of the bells that they would have found 
life very strange without it, but Pepita and Ines had 
long ago decided they were glad their home was not 
in the tower, fascinating as they found their visits 
there. 

It was still very hot when, at about five o’clock, 
Mrs. O’Dowd and Pepita came out through the door 
in the garden-wall, and started for the great cathe¬ 
dral. Ines, who was not fond of walking, had de- 


PEPITA' S HOME 


■ j* 

21 


cided to remain at home and have coffee with 
Mamma. Mrs. O’Dowd carried a basket filled with 
good things for Rafaelo, which Senora Lopez had 
packed with her own hands. 

“ My, but it’s a hot day! ” sighed the Irish 
woman, as she closed the garden-door behind them. 
“ Come over in the shade, darlin’; we’ll be sun- 
struck if we walk in this heat.” 

“ What is ‘ sunstruck ’ ? ” inquired Pepita, who 
was interested in new words, even in English. 

“ It’s what people get when they stay out too long 
in the hot sun. Sometimes it kills them, and more 
times it makes them queer in their heads afterwards. 
The sergeant got a touch of the sun once when the 
regiment was stationed in Cairo.” 

“ Did it kill him? ” asked Pepita, with interest. 

“ No, no, dearie, it was the pneumonia that took 
him off, as I’ve told you many a time. He was 
very bad, though; we had to keep ice-bags on his 
head all night.” 

“ Did it make him queer in the head ? ” inquired 
Pepita, innocently. 

“ Goodness no, child! he had a wonderful mind, 
the sergeant had; there wasn’t anything queer about 
him, I can tell you. There was a man in the regi¬ 
ment who-” And Mrs. O’Dowd launched 

forth on a tale of horrors, which it was, perhaps, 
just as well Pepita did not thoroughly understand. 
Indeed, Pepita’s thoughts were busy with more in- 



22 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


teresting things than long stories in English, and 
just as Mrs. O’Dowd was describing the most blood¬ 
curdling details, her charge interrupted her with the 
irrelevant remark: “ Rafaelo is training a monkey 
for me.” 

“ A monkey! ” exclaimed Mrs. O’Dowd, almost 
forgetting the thread of her story in horror at this 
announcement. “ Sure your aunt would never let 
you have one of the dirty little beasts in the house.” 

“ Yes, she will,” Pepita assured her confidently. 
“ Perico had a monkey once; he kept it in his room, 
and it did many tricks. This is a very little one. 
Rafaelo’s uncle brought it from Algiers, and 
he is training it for me. He is teaching it to 
dance.” 

“ Well, I never! ” ejaculated Mrs. O’Dowd, in a 
tone of disgust. “ I’ve seen children have rabbits 
and guinea pigs for pets, but a monkey! Sure, 
Jewel, you won’t like it.” 

“ Certainly I shall like it,” declared Pepita. “ I 
shall love it very much. I think I shall have it sleep 
in my bed.” 

This last suggestion was so dreadful that Mrs. 
O’Dowd could find no words in which to voice her 
disgust, and, knowing from experience that Pepita 
was apt to grow obstinate when argued with, she 
wisely decided to let the subject drop. But as they 
climbed the tower she kept a sharp lookout at every 
turn, half expecting to see the objectionable monkey 


PEPITA'S HOME 


23 

spring out from some hiding-place, and jump on her 
shoulder. 

Senora Ferrara and her daughter were out, but 
the visitors were received by the bell-ringer himself, 
who assured Pepita, in answer to her eager ques¬ 
tion, that he was going to ring the bells for Vespers 
in about fifteen minutes. 

“ Then we shall wait to hear them,” Pepita an¬ 
nounced. “ Where is Rafaelo ? ” 

“ He is lying on his bed, senorita. The pain in 
his back is bad to-day, but he will be glad to see 
you.” 

Pepita’s face grew grave. She was a tender¬ 
hearted little girl, and it always saddened her to 
hear of pain of any kind. Besides, she was really 
fond of Rafaelo, whom she had known ever since 
she could remember. 

“ I will go to him,” she said, and, leaving Mrs. 
O’Dowd to explain in her queer, broken Spanish 
about the contents of the basket, she made her way 
to the tiny room, where, lying fully dressed upon his 
bed, was a pale boy of twelve, who, at sight of the 
visitor, started up with a look of sudden pleasure 
lighting his pale, suffering face. 

“ Ah, senorita, this is kind! ” he cried, making a 
feeble effort to rise. “ Would you be so good as to 
hand me those crutches in the corner ? ” 

“ Stay where you are,” commanded Pepita. 
“ Your father says you are ill.” 


*4 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Oh, senorita, it is nothing. A little pain in the 
back; really of no consequence. I should not re¬ 
ceive you like this.” 

“ You will stay where you are, or I will go 
straight away,” declared Pepita. “ I will sit here; ” 
and she seated herself on the only chair the room 
contained, and began fanning herself with the hat 
she had taken off. 

The boy looked distressed, but, knowing that 
Pepita would be obeyed, he made no further pro¬ 
test, and sank back on his pillow again with a sigh. 

“ The senorita is very considerate,” he mur¬ 
mured. 

“ How is the monkey? ” Pepita inquired, with an 
anxious glance around the little bedroom. 

Rafaelo’s face brightened. 

“ He is well,” he said. “ Would the senorita like 
to see him ? ” 

Pepita replied that she would like it very 
much, and inquired where the monkey was to be 
found. 

“ He is asleep in his box,” Rafaelo explained. 
“ I have been giving him a lesson this afternoon, 
and I think the senorita will find that he has im¬ 
proved.” Then, leaning over the edge of the bed, 
he called softly, “ Abdul, Abdul, wake up; some one 
has come to see you.” 

There was a sound of scrambling, and out from 
under the bed bounded a tiny creature, not much 


PE PITA'S HOME 


25 


bigger than a kitten, which sprang up beside 
Rafaelo, and stood blinking at the visitor with such 
an adorably droll expression on its little wizened 
face, that Pepita burst out laughing. 

“ Oh, he is droll! ” she cried delightedly. 
“ What tricks have you taught him, Rafaelo? ” 

“ Abdul, shake hands with the senorita.” 

At the word of command, Abdul advanced to¬ 
wards Pepita, and held out a skinny mite of a hand, 
which the little girl took rather timidly. 

“ That is right. Now make your bow.” 

The monkey immediately struck the proper at¬ 
titude, and bowed his head. 

“ Oh, but he is wonderful! ” cried Pepita, clap¬ 
ping her hands. “ You are a clever boy, Rafaelo. 
How do you teach him ? ” 

Rafaelo looked very much gratified. 

“ It is quite easy,” he said. “ All that is required 
is patience. I am teaching him to dance. He has 
already learned some of the steps. If the senorita 
would permit me to go for my guitar, I would 
show.” 

“ But I will not permit it,” interrupted Pepita in 
a tone of authority. “ Your father says you are 
in pain. You must lie still to-day, but I will come 
again soon, and then you can show me. How soon 
do you think I can take him home ? ” 

“ When the senorita wants him, certainly he can 
go, but if I might keep the little animal say another 


26 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


month, I could teach him more tricks, and he would 
then be more amusing.” 

“ Oh, I want him to learn all the tricks you can 
teach him,” said Pepita. “ I want my cousin, 
Perico, to see how clever he is. Perico is coming 
home for a holiday before he joins his ship at 
Gibraltar.” 

“ I suppose the Senor Perico will be much 
changed,” said Rafaelo politely. “ He will be 
quite a young gentleman, and will no longer care to 
visit us in the tower.” 

“ I am sure he will like to come,” said Pepita. 
“He spoke of you in one of his letters; he asked 
Aunt Dolores how you were.” 

Rafaelo’s pale face grew suddenly radiant. 

“ That is good news,” he said, and although he 
spoke quietly, his voice trembled, and his eyes shone. 
For as long as the lame boy could remember, he had 
worshipped the tall, handsome Perico, with his high 
spirits and many talents, and, in his good-natured, 
easy-going way, Perico had been very kind to the 
children in the tower. 

“ Sehor Perico will be a great admiral some day,” 
Rafaelo went on; “ he is so strong and brave, he is 
afraid of nothing. Then, if there is another war 
with America, Sehor Perico will be the hero of a 
great battle. I have thought of it many times when 
I have lain awake in the long, hot nights.” 

At the words “ another war with America/' 


PE PITA'S HOME 


2 7 


Pepita had flushed, and even the praise of her be¬ 
loved Perico failed to banish the troubled look from 
her eyes. But before she could reply, Mrs. O’Dowd 
appeared in the doorway. 

“Come, darlin’,” she said; “it’s time we were 
gettin’ back.” Then, relapsing into her broken 
Spanish, she asked Rafaelo how he was. 

Pepita was in no hurry to go, pleading to be al¬ 
lowed to wait till the bells rang, and, in the hope of 
interesting Mrs. O’Dowd, the monkey was once 
more put through his tricks. But Mrs. O’Dowd 
objected to monkeys, and, at the mere suggestion of 
shaking hands with Abdul, drew back with a shriek 
of horror, which amused both children extremely. 
Abdul, evidently regarding the action as a signal for 
a game, started for the visitor, and, with a second 
shriek, the Irishwoman sprang upon the chair, 
where she stood, with her skirts gathered about her, 
exclaiming in a tone of actual horror, “ Take him 
away, the nasty little beast. Shut him up. Oh, 
darlin’, don’t you see he’s goin’ to fly at me? ” 

Amid much laughter, Abdul was captured, and 
restored to his box, and, before the excitement had 
subsided, the great bells began to ring, and Pepita 
had her wish. 

They waited till the bells had ceased ringing, and 
then, after bidding Rafaelo a kind good-by, began 
to descend the long, winding passage once more. 
But just outside the Ferraras’ door they met the 


28 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


bell-ringer, who told them he was about to feed the 
pigeons, and asked Pepita if she would like to give 
them some grain. Of course Pepita was delighted, 
and, with a sigh of resignation, Mrs. O’Dowd sub¬ 
mitted to another delay. 

The pigeons were wonderfully tame, and, at 
Senor Ferrara’s call, they came flocking for their 
evening meal. They alighted on his head, his 
hands, his shoulders, and treated Pepita with equal 
friendliness. Mrs. O’Dowd looked on, half amused 
and half disgusted. 

“ Rafaelo is a wonderful boy for training 
animals,” remarked Pepita, when the tower had at 
last been left behind, and they were on their way 
home. “ I wish I could live in the tower, and help 
train Abdul, and feed the pigeons every day.” 

“ Indeed, and that would be a queer place for a 
young lady like you to be livin’,” said Mrs. O’Dowd 
scornfully. “ The Ferraras are nice, respectable 
people, I’ll say that for them, but they’re not fit 
company for the likes of you. I’m surprised 
Madam lets you go there so often.” 

“ Aunt Dolores loved Jacinta Ferrara,” declared 
Pepita indignantly. “ She was Grandma’s faithful 
maid for many years, and nursed her through the 
smallpox. I wish we were not aristocrats. I am 
sure the children who play in the streets in the 
evenings have better times than we have. Even 
Rafaelo, although he is a cripple, can always live in 





The Irishwoman sprang upon the chair.— Page 27 













PEPITA'S HOME 


29 

that wonderful tower, and have all the animals he 
wants/’ 

Pepita had relapsed into Spanish, as she always 
did when excited, and as this was against rules, 
Mrs. O’Dowd ventured a gentle remonstrance. 

“ Don’t be forgettin’ your English, dearie. You 
know your aunt’s given me strict orders to see you 
talk English. You needn’t be gettin’ mad, neither, 
for I haven’t a word to say against the Ferraras, 
who are as nice a family in their position as I’ve 
ever seen in my life.” 

But Pepita did not feel in the mood for speaking 
English, and, as a compromise, settled into silence, 
which was only broken by an occasional monosyl¬ 
lable until they reached home. 


CHAPTER II 


PEPITA BREAKS BOUNDS 

D INNER was over, and the Lopez family 
had retired to the inner court where the 
fountain was, Uncle Miguel with his 
newspaper and Aunt Dolores and Ines with their 
embroidery. Pepita was there, too, but as she 
hated embroidery, and the children were allowed to 
amuse themselves as they chose in the evening, she 
was doing nothing more interesting than dabbling 
her hands in the fountain, in a vain attempt to catch 
one of the goldfish. 

“What lively little things they are!” she ex¬ 
claimed impatiently. “ They won’t stay still a 
minute. I only want to catch one in my hand.” 
Aunt Dolores looked up from her work. 

“ Do not hurt the fish, Pepita,” she said gently. 
“ You know that is not kind.” 

“ I am not going to hurt them,” Pepita explained. 
“ I only want to hold one in my hand for a minute. 
I will put it right back in the water.” 

At that moment Pepita’s foot slipped on the 

30 


PEPITA BREAKS BOUNDS 


31 


marble floor, and she fell forward, and was only 
prevented from stumbling into the fountain by 
grasping a large flower-pot, which ornamented the 
edge of the basin. 

“ Oh, Pepita, how careless you are! ” remon¬ 
strated Aunt Dolores. “ Come away from the 
fountain at once; you make me nervous.” 

Pepita complied, looking somewhat crestfallen. 
She went over to Uncle Miguel, and tried to see 
what he was reading. 

“ Is the paper interesting to-night, Uncle ? ” she 
inquired. 

Senor Lopez looked up with a frown. 

“ Don’t interrupt me, child,” he said; “ I am in 
the midst of a most interesting article.” 

Pepita sighed. 

“ I wish I had something interesting to do,” she 
said. “ It is always so dull in the evenings.” 

“ Go and get your embroidery,” proposed Aunt 
Dolores. “ See how well Ines is getting on with 
hers.” 

“ But I am not clever with my fingers like Ines,” 
objected Pepita. “ May we go out in the garden 
for a little while? ” 

“ Certainly you may,” said Aunt Dolores, in a 
tone of relief. She was very fond of this restless, 
high-spirited little niece, but Pepita was such a con¬ 
trast to her gentle, placid Ines, that she was often 
puzzled by her ways. Aunt Dolores always knew 


32 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


just what Ines would be likely to say or do under 
any conceivable circumstances, but with Pepita it 
was quite different. 

“ Come, Ines/’ said Pepita, but Ines shook her 
head. 

“ I would rather stay here with Papa and 
Mamma,” she said. “ I have nearly finished my 
rose.” 

“ I wonder why people like doing stupid things 
like embroidery,” Pepita reflected, as she made her 
way to the rose-scented garden. “ It would make 
my head ache to sit still so long, and think about 
stitches. Oh, how lovely it is out here! I am sure 
Aunt Dolores and Ines would enjoy it if they would 
only leave their embroidery long enough.” 

It was indeed lovely in Senor Lopez's garden. 
There was a full moon, and all the roses and honey¬ 
suckle were in bloom. It was still very warm, 
although cooler than in the afternoon, and as Pepita 
paused to bury her nose in a great crimson rose, a 
nightingale began to sing. The girl heaved a sigh 
of intense enjoyment, and sat down on one of the 
stone benches. 

But Pepita was accustomed to moonlight, and 
roses, and even nightingales, and after the first few 
moments of quiet enjoyment, she began to pay at¬ 
tention to other sounds. In the street, on the other 
side of the high wall, the children were playing, as 
they always did in the evenings, and the sound of 


PEPITA BREAKS BOUNDS 


33 


their voices and laughter reached the solitary little 
girl sitting on the stone bench. 

“ What a good time they are having,” she said to 
herself. “ I wonder why Aunt Dolores will never 
allow us to play in the street. It would be so amus¬ 
ing, and we could make so many friends.” 

Just then a hurdy-gurdy began to play. Pepita 
sprang to her feet. 

“ They are going to dance/’ she exclaimed. 
“ Oh, if I could only see them! ” 

She ran to the wall, and stood on tiptoe, but it 
was much too high to look over the top, as she quite 
well knew. She and Ines had often spent a whole 
hour in wondering what the people on the other 
side of the garden-wall were doing. But until now 
it had never occurred to her that there was any way 
by which she could look out into the street. It was 
just as she was turning away, with a rather envious 
sigh, that a thought struck her, so bold, so daring, 
that for the first moment she actually gasped. 
Why should she not climb the wall, and, sitting on 
the top, take a peep at the world outside ? 

To think with Pepita was to act. One regretful 
glance at the pretty white dress, which was sure to 
suffer from such an escapade, and then she was 
scrambling up the wall with the agility of a young 
monkey. The wall was rough, and Pepita’s hands 
were soft, but she had a goodly inheritance of pluck 
and love of adventure from her American father, 


34 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


so, in spite of scratched hands and torn skirts, she 
persisted; and when she found herself at last seated 
on the very top of the wall, she was conscious of a 
sensation of triumph such as she had never experi¬ 
enced before in her life. 

From her perch she could look down into the 
street below, and, by leaning forward a little, could 
watch the group of children surrounding the hurdy- 
gurdy. Yes, they were dancing or rather trying to 
dance, which, in Pepita’s opinion at least, was quite 
a different thing. 

“ How stupid they are,” she commented dis¬ 
gustedly; “ I don’t believe any of them have ever had 
a lesson. How I should like to show them the right 
way to dance! ” 

At that moment a girl of about her own age hap¬ 
pened to glance in her direction, and, on catching 
sight of the little figure on the wall, called the at¬ 
tention of her companions, who, with exclamations 
of surprise, came flocking to look at the unusual 
spectacle. How they shouted and gesticulated, and 
how Pepita enjoyed the unusual sensation of being 
the centre of interest! The hurdy-gurdy grinder 
stopped playing and joined the excited group that 
Pepita had attracted. 

“How did you get up there? How did you 
manage it? ” demanded half a dozen high-pitched 
little voices. 

Pepita smiled a superior smile. 


PEPITA BREAKS BOUNDS 


35 


“ I climbed the wall from the other side,” she ex¬ 
plained. “ I wanted to see what you were doing. 
I wish you would go on dancing. I like to watch 
you, although you really don’t know how.” 

“But how will you get down again?” inquired 
one little girl anxiously, ignoring the latter part of 
Pepita’s speech. 

Pepita hesitated and glanced backward over her 
shoulder at the peaceful garden bathed in moon¬ 
light. To tell the truth she had only been thinking 
of how to reach the top of the wall, not of getting 
down again. 

“ I—I suppose I shall climb down as I climbed 
up,” she suggested doubtfully, but at this there was 
a shout of derision from the crowd. 

“ You will fall and be hurt,” cried the girl who 
had spoken before; and the hurdy-gurdy grinder 
lifted his voice and shouted, “ Stay where you are. 
Do not move. I will bring a ladder.” 

He promptly disappeared, followed by several of 
the older boys. The younger children clustered 
eagerly about the foot of the wall. 

“Were you not afraid?” one little boy asked, 
with an admiring glance at the heroine of the hour. 

“ Not in the least,” Pepita assured him confi¬ 
dently. But though her words were cheerful her 
heart sank. She had not been afraid when climb¬ 
ing the wall, but the question of getting down again 
was quite a different matter. 


3 $ 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Just then a tall girl of sixteen appeared, pushing 
her way among the crowd of children. 

“ What is the matter ? ” she demanded eagerly. 
Then, catching sight of Pepita on her high perch, 
she threw up her hands with a scream of astonish¬ 
ment. 

“ Why, it is the little Lopez girl,” she cried. 
“ How did you get up there, Senorita Pepita ? ” 

“ I climbed up to watch the children dance,” ex¬ 
plained Pepita, who had suddenly grown rather 
embarrassed. Indeed, she was beginning to regret 
her prank, and to wish herself safely back in her 
uncle’s garden. She knew this girl, Carlotta Fer¬ 
nandez, who was the daughter of her aunt’s dress¬ 
maker, and only the week before, when she had 
brought home a parcel, Pepita had exchanged ideas 
with her about the pleasures of playing in the 
street. 

“ Your aunt will be angry,” announced Carlotta. 
“ And how do you expect to get down ? ” 

Before Pepita could answer, the owner of the 
hurdy-gurdy, and the boys who had accompanied 
him, returned, bearing a ladder, which they pro¬ 
ceeded to set against the wall. Pepita was then in¬ 
formed that she might descend in safety. Very 
slowly and carefully the heroine of the hour came 
down the ladder, wishing at every step that she had 
never placed herself in this ridiculous position. For 
now not only the children but a number of passers- 


PEPITA BREAKS BOUNDS 37 

by had paused to look at her. Some people were 
smiling; others looked shocked. 

“ The little mischief,” she heard one woman re¬ 
mark to a companion; “ she should be well punished 
for such foolhardiness.” 

But at that moment there was no one to punish 
Pepita, for Aunt Dolores and Uncle Miguel, safe 
in the inner court, were serenely unconscious of 
what was going on. Mrs. O’Dowd was in her 
room, writing a letter to her sister in Ireland, and 
the servants were nowhere in sight. As she reached 
the last rung of the ladder, Pepita’s first impulse 
was to fly to the door in the wall and ring the bell, 
but before she could carry out her purpose, Car- 
lotta had seized her by the hand. Carlotta was 
smiling, and her black eyes were dancing with fun. 

“Where are you going?” she cried. “Now 
that you have taken all this trouble, you will surely 
stay here for a little while. You told me the other 
day that you would so like to play with the children 
in the street.” 

Pepita glanced at her torn skirt, and hesitated. 

“I’m afraid I must go back,” she said; “my 
aunt will be angry.” 

Carlotta also glanced at the tom skirt. “Your 
aunt will be angry whether you go back or not,” she 
said. “ You may as well stay and enjoy yourself. 
When I am punished I always think it is as well to 
be punished for a big thing as for a little one.” 


38 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


At that moment the hurdy-gurdy grinder struck 
up a lively tune and some of the children began to 
dance. It was too much for Pepita’s strength 
of purpose, and she yielded to a sudden tempta¬ 
tion. 

“ I will only stay a very few minutes,” she said, 
trying to stifle conscience, which persisted in re¬ 
minding her of Aunt Dolores’ rules. “ Oh, how 
badly those girls dance! I should like to show them 
the right way.” 

“ My mother says you are a wonderful dancer,” 
said Carlotta. “ She saw you once, when your 
aunt gave a children’s party, and she told me you 
danced like a fairy.” 

Pepita’s foolish little heart swelled with pride. 

“ The dancing-master says I am his best pupil,” 
she said boastfully, and then was ashamed of her¬ 
self, remembering her aunt’s lectures about brag¬ 
ging. 

“ I should love to see you dance,” said Carlotta. 
“ Would you mind showing us just a few steps? 
Your aunt may never let you play in the street 
again.” 

Pepita wavered. Well did she know that danc¬ 
ing in the public street was a thing unheard of in 
Aunt Dolores’ code. But she loved dancing, and 
then the pride of showing off her one accomplish¬ 
ment before all those girls and boys ! Already her 
eager little feet were beating time to the gay music. 


PEPITA BREAKS BOUNDS 


39 


One hasty glance up and down the street, to make 
sure no one she knew was in sight, and then- 

“ I will show you just one dance,” she said, and 
seizing the delighted Carlotta by the hand, she 
whirled away among the crowd of dancing children. 

“ Henry, do look at those children dancing to 
that hand-organ. It’s after nine o’clock. They 
ought, every one of them, to be in their beds.” 

The words were English, and the speaker, a stout, 
middle-aged lady, turned indignantly to her com¬ 
panion, an elderly gentleman in spectacles. They 
had both come to a sudden pause in their evening 
stroll. 

“ They know how to do it, too,” remarked the 
gentleman; “at least one of them does. Look at 
that little girl, Mary. Did you ever see a more 
graceful dancer?” 

“ I don’t want to look at her,” returned the lady 
impatiently. “ The way children in this country 
are allowed to sit up till all hours, and go roaming 
about the streets by themselves at night, is enough 
to make one ill. I don’t wonder that Jane Haw¬ 
thorn feels as she does about having her brother’s 
child brought up among such outlandish customs. I 
think the house must be on this street, but how on 
earth we are going to find it is more than I know. 
There isn’t a number to be seen, and I don’t suppose 
any of these people speak a word of English, or 
even French. I must say I am not fond of travel- 



40 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


ling in countries where I don’t understand the 
language.” 

Just then the hurdy-gurdy grinder paused to 
change his tune, and at the sound of the English 
voice Pepita turned her head. She felt that she 
had done well, and was enjoying the enthusiastic 
comments of her companions. 

“ You might try French on some of those chil¬ 
dren,” the gentleman suggested. “ You know that 
man at the hotel told us they often speak several 

languages. Halloa, little girl! Savez-vous- 

Oh, you do the talking, Mary; you parlez-vous bet¬ 
ter than I do.” 

“ I speak zie English,” said Pepita, stepping for¬ 
ward, with a curtsey. She was not sorry to show 
Carlotta and her friends yet another accomplish¬ 
ment. 

The strangers both looked rather surprised, but 
the gentleman smiled pleasantly. 

“ Do you really ? ” he said. “ Then perhaps you 
can tell us whether some people named Lopez hap¬ 
pen to live on this street.” 

“ Certainly I can,” said Pepita, surprised in her 
turn. “ It is the house with the garden and the 
high wall.” 

“ Thank you, but can you tell us how to get in? 
Is there a gate? ” 

“You—you wish to go in?” gasped Pepita, in 
sudden dismay. 



PEP IT A BREAKS BOUNDS 


41 


“ To be sure we do. Can you show us the 
way? ” 

Pepita’s cheeks grew suddenly pink, and her eyes 
dropped. That visitors to her aunt and uncle 
should have seen her dancing in the street was a 
thing never dreamed of in her wildest expectations. 

“ One must ring the bell,” she said; and without 
another word, but with a rapidly sinking heart, she 
led the way to the door in the wall. 

“ You are a fine little dancer,” said the gentleman 
kindly, as they stood waiting for the door to be 
opened. “ I never saw a little girl dance better.” 

Pepita flushed with pleasure, and began to hope 
that things might not be so bad after all. 

“ I love zie dancing,” she said. “ My cousin and 
I have took lessons from zie best teacher in Seville.” 

She would have said more, not being troubled 
with shyness, but at that moment the lady inquired: 
“ How old are you? ” 

“ I have eleven years and six months,” Pepita 
answered, and then the porter threw open the door. 

At sight of Pepita the man started back in as¬ 
tonishment. 

“ Senorita Pepita! ” he exclaimed; and then, see¬ 
ing the visitors, he checked himself and bowed 
politely. 

The gentleman turned to Pepita. 

“ Good-night,” he said, “ and thank you for 
showing us the house.” 


42 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ But I am coming in, too. It is my home.” 

“ Your home! ” repeated the gentleman; and the 
lady added sharply,—“ You don’t mean that you 
are one of the Lopez children.” 

“ I am Senora Lopez’s niece,” said Pepita, blush¬ 
ing beneath the stranger’s keen scrutiny. “ My 
name is Pepita Hawthorn.” 

“Good gracious!” gasped the lady. “Well, no 
wonder Jane worries.” 

“ We are friends of your famly in America,” the 
gentleman explained kindly. “ I am Mr. Henry 
Lewis of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, and this is 
my wife, Mrs. Lewis. Your aunt, Miss Jane 
Hawthorn, asked us to look you up when we were 
in Seville. We have a letter of introduction to 
your uncle, Mr. Lopez.” 

But if Mr. Lewis expected that this information 
would give Pepita pleasure, he was very much mis¬ 
taken. At the words “ your family in America,” 
the child had given a violent start, and now, with¬ 
out word, she turned and fled down one of the 
garden paths, and was lost to sight among the 
trees. 

“ Pretty manners,” remarked Mrs. Lewis sarcas¬ 
tically, as she and her husband followed the porter 
to the house. 

“ She’s shy, that’s all,” said Mr. Lewis good- 
naturedly. “ She speaks pretty fair English, all 
things considered, although her grammar might be 


PEPITA BREAKS BOUNDS 


43 


improved, and her accent is more Irish than Eng¬ 
lish” 

“ Pepita, Pepita! ” 

Pepita peeped from her hiding-place behind a 
tree. Ines was coming down the garden path. 

“ Here I am,” she whispered. “ Oh, Ines, what 
has happened ? ” 

“ Nothing bad. Some people from America have 
come to see Papa and Mamma. They know your 
American relations, and Mamma sent me to look for 
you. Oh, Pepita, how did you manage to tear your 
dress like that ? ” 

“ I’ll tell you by and by. What did those people 
say about me?” 

“ I don’t know. They talk such queer French it 
is hard to understand them. They don’t speak any 
Spanish, and the gentleman’s French is so funny I 
had hard work not to laugh. They promised your 
aunt they would come to see you when they were 
in Seville. Here is a pin; you can pin up your 
dress and then we must hurry. Mamma told me to 
bring you at once.” 

It was a very subdued, shamefaced Pepita who 
presented herself in the salon, before her aunt and 
uncle, and their visitors. The torn dress had been 
pinned together, and she made some faint attempts, 
with Ines’ help, to smooth her tumbled hair, but she 
still looked flushed and dishevelled, and her eyes 
sank beneath Aunt Dolores’ reproachful gaze. Aunt 


44 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


Dolores was sitting on the sofa beside Mrs. Lewis, 
nervously clasping and unclasping her hands, while 
she listened to the visitor’s slow, halting French, 
while Uncle Miguel made a valiant attempt to carry 
on a conversation in the same language with Mr. 
Lewis. 

“ Come here, Pepita,” said Senora Lopez. “ I 
want you to speak to this lady, Madame Lewis. 
She is a friend of your father’s sister in America. 
It was very kind of her to come to see you.” 

Pepita advanced slowly; her cheeks were crimson, 
and her eyes downcast. She felt the stern gaze of 
Mrs. Lewis fixed upon her. 

“We have seen the child before,” that lady 
explained. “ She was dancing in the street as we 
came along.” 

“ Dancing in the street! ” gasped Aunt Dolores, 
turning pale. “ Oh, madame, I am sure you are 
mistaken. Our little girls are never per¬ 
mitted -” 

“ Ask her,” said Mrs. Lewis shortly. 

“ Pepita! ” cried Senora Lopez. “ Surely this is 
not true? You have never done such a terrible 
thing? ” 

Pepita’s heart was beating fast, but she was a 
truthful child, and she lifted her eyes to her aunt’s 
troubled face. 

“ I am sorry, Aunt Dolores,” she said in Spanish. 
“ I really didn’t intend to do it, but I climbed the 



PEPITA BREAKS BOUNDS 


45 


wall to watch the children dance, and I couldn’t get 
down again, and they brought a ladder, and-” 

“ What is she saying ? ” inquired Mrs. Lewis, as 
Pepita paused, blushing and stammering. 

“ I am afraid my little niece has been very dis¬ 
obedient,” answered Sehora Lopez, who was look¬ 
ing almost as much distressed and embarrassed as 
Pepita herself. “ She has been strictly forbidden 
to go into the street alone, and as to dancing—I 
can only beg you to believe, madame, that such con¬ 
duct is quite unpardonable.” 

Mrs. Lewis smiled rather stiffly. 

“ Well, we won’t say any more about it then,” she 
said politely. “ I thought it only right to tell you 
what we had seen. As an intimate friend of Miss 
Jane Hawthorn, I am naturally interested in the 
child. She has been taught English, I understand.” 

“ Yes; oh, yes indeed,” said Sehora Lopez, look¬ 
ing much relieved by this change of subject. “ It 
was her father’s wish that she should be taught his 
language. We have been most fortunate in secur¬ 
ing the services of a most excellent person, a Mrs. 
O’Dowd. She is the widow of an Irish officer, and 
she never speaks anything but English with the 
child. Indeed, Pepita understands the language 
almost as well as she understands Spanish and 
French.” 

“ That is true,” put in Uncle Miguel, glad of an 
opportunity to break off his conversation with Mr. 



46 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Lewis, whose French was far from perfect. “ Per¬ 
haps, Dolores, Madame Lewis might like to hear 
Pepita recite something in English. Neither my 
wife nor I understand the language, so perhaps you 
will be better judges than we can be.” 

“ We heard her speak a few words in the street,” 
said Mrs. Lewis, “ and it struck us that her accent 
was more Irish than English. Did you say O’Dowd 
was the name of her governess? ” 

“ Yes, but the children have a French governess 
as well, so you see Pepita’s education has not been 
neglected. Pepita, let the lady and gentleman hear 
you recite one of your English poems.” 

Pepita was still feeling somewhat uncomfortable, 
but dared not disobey. Besides, she was rather 
proud of her English, so she stepped forward, with 
a curtsey, folded her hands, raised her eyes to the 
ceiling, and began in a clear, high-pitched voice: 

“ Tweenkle, tweenkle, leetle star-r, 

’Ow I wonderr what you ar-re; 

Up above zie wor-rld so high, 

Like a diamond in zie sky.” 

Pepita paused, startled by the sound of an un¬ 
mistakable chuckle from Mr. Lewis. 

“ Is it not correct? ” she inquired in English, turn¬ 
ing appealingly to the visitors. 

“ Oh, quite right,” Mr. Lewis assured her, but his 
eyes twinkled nevertheless. 


PEP IT A BEE AES BOUNDS 


47 


“ I am sorry if I make mistakes,” said Pepita 
politely. “ Perhaps I can say anozer one better.” 

“ That will do for to-night,” Mrs. Lewis inter¬ 
posed. “ I am afraid we must go now. We are 
leaving for Gibraltar in the morning. We sail for 
home the day after to-morrow.” 

But Senor and Senora Lopez would not hear of 
their visitors leaving before they had partaken of 
some refreshment, and coffee and cakes were or¬ 
dered, despite Mrs. Lewis’s protestations that they 
had only just dined. In the slight confusion which 
ensued, Pepita managed to make her escape, and did 
not appear again until the guests had taken their 
departure. She was then discovered by her aunt, 
hiding behind a big flower-pot in the inner court, in 
a state of such humility and remorse that Aunt 
Dolores’ tender heart was touched, and the lecture 
she had intended to administer was reduced to a 
few words of gentle admonition. 

But if Senora Lopez could have heard the con¬ 
versation of the visitors as they walked back to their 
hotel, she might not have so speedily dismissed the 
subject of Pepita’s delinquencies from her mind. 

“ They seem like nice people,” remarked Mr. 
Lewis. “ I can’t say I understood much of what 
they said, but they were certainly very polite, and 
the aunt is very pretty.” 

“ No character in her face,” returned his wife 
decidedly. “ It is easy to see she hasn’t the least 


48 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


idea how to bring up children. Imagine employing 
an Irish woman as an English teacher. The child 
speaks with a brogue, and as to her being allowed to 
run wild in the streets after dark—I am inclined to 
think Jane did a wise thing in asking us to look up 
her niece. Depend upon it, something will be done 
after this report reaches Portsmouth.” 


CHAPTER III 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 

P ERICO had come home, a big handsome boy 
of fifteen, with merry blue eyes and a loud, 
commanding voice. He had grown so much 
since his departure for the naval academy the pre¬ 
vious year, and had assumed such grown-up man¬ 
ners, that Ines was disposed to be rather shy of him 
at first, and to pay so much attention to his slightest 
wish that Pepita, who adored Perico herself, but was 
not in the least in awe of him, considered her 
cousin’s behavior rather absurd. 

“ You treat him as if he were a king,” she pro¬ 
tested laughingly. “ He is only a boy, after all.” 

“ It seems as if we ought to pay him more respect 
now that he is going away so soon,” Ines pleaded 
gently. “ He is almost a man.” 

“ He is only fifteen,” returned Pepita; “ and even 
if he were a man, it is not the business of ladies to 
wait upon gentlemen. When Perico asks me po¬ 
litely I shall do things for him, but when he orders 
me, I shall not.” 

But in spite of this bold assertion, Pepita was 
almost as much Perico’s abject slave as Ines was. 
Indeed, the two had been chums ever since Perico 

49 


50 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


was eight, and Pepita only four. If Ines had not 
been the gentle, unselfish little soul she was, she 
might even have been jealous at times of her broth¬ 
er’s preference for the society of their merry little 
cousin. 

“ Pepita is so much more sensible than you are,” 
Perico had once explained to his sister. “ She isn’t 
afraid of things, and she likes to have adventures. 
She likes books, too. You never read a book.” 

Ines had wiped her eyes, and submitted to the 
inevitable, merely remarking plaintively, as she left 
the room, “ You know, Perico, that reading makes 
my head ache, and Mamma says it isn’t ladylike for 
little girls to play rough games.” 

Never before had Perico seemed of such impor¬ 
tance in the eyes of his family as on this visit, for 
was he not going away at the end of the summer, 
not back to the naval academy, but to sail the seas on 
board a great man-of-war? Nobody knew where 
the ship might be ordered, or how long it would be 
before they saw Perico again. So everything was 
done for his pleasure, and the entire household 
bowed to his will. Even Mrs. O’Dowd, who usu¬ 
ally spoke of the son and heir as “ that bye,” was 
heard to speak of “ Master Perico,” and made no 
objections when Pepita begged to be released from 
the usual hour’s reading, one morning, a few days 
after the young lord’s arrival, on the grounds that 
Perico wanted her to play croquet. 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 


51 


“ He is only to be with us three months,” Pepita 
urged, seeing Mrs. O’Dowd’s evident hesitation. 
“ Aunt Dolores says we must do all we can to make 
him happy.” 

“ Well, I suppose I’ll have to let you off,” said 
Mrs. O’Dowd good-naturedly, “ though how you 
children can play croquet in this heat beats me. I 
should think you’d much rather read some more in 
this pretty book; it’s a very interestin’ story.” 

But Pepita did not stop to argue the point; she 
was already halfway down-stairs. She found her 
two cousins waiting for her in the court. Perico 
was looking somewhat annoyed. 

“ Ines has a headache,” he complained. “ She 
thinks it too hot to go out in the sun.” 

“ Ines always has a headache when she does not 
want to do a thing,” said Pepita rather contemptu¬ 
ously. “ I do not mind the heat, though; I will 
play croquet with you.” 

“ Come on, then,” commanded Perico, and the two 
departed, leaving Ines to her favorite amusement of 
feeding the goldfish in the fountain. 

It certainly was rather warm for active exercise, 
but heat and cold appeared to be matters of equal 
indifference to Perico, and Pepita was not the girl 
to give in until she was thoroughly beaten, so they 
played croquet for the next hour and a half, only 
stopping when Perico had beaten his cousin three 
games in succession., 


52 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ We will play some more this afternoon if you 
like,” said Pepita bravely, as she wiped her stream¬ 
ing face with her handkerchief. “ I will try to do 
better then.” 

Perico looked important. 

“ I can’t play this afternoon,” he said; “ I have an 
engagement.” 

“ What are you going to do?” Pepita inquired 
with interest. Hitherto she and Perico had had no 
secrets from each other. 

Perico looked still more important. “ I am not 
going to tell,” he said. 

Pepita’s feelings were hurt. 

“ You always tell me where you go,” she said with 
a little catch in her voice. 

“ Well, because I have always done a thing does 
not mean that I am always going to do it. I am 
older now. A man can do many things that it is not 
necessary to tell his family about.” 

“You are not a man; you are only fifteen, and 
if you tell me, you know I will not tell any one 
else. I always keep your secrets. I never told 
when you broke the church window with your 
ball.” 

“ Pooh! that was nothing. Any one could have 
kept a secret like that. This is different. I am not 
going to do anything wrong; every one does it; 
only—well, Papa has rather strict ideas about some 
things. It is just as well not to mention it.” 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 53 

“Ah, Perico, do tell me,” coaxed Pepita. “ I am 
so much interested in all you do.” 

For a moment longer Perico hesitated; then the 
desire to note the effect of his announcement proved 
too strong to be resisted, and he said impressively, 
“ Well, then, if you must know, I am going to the 
bull-fight.” 

“ Perico! ” There was a mingling of horror and 
admiration in the word, which was just what Perico 
had expected. 

“ There isn't anything to be shocked about,” he 
said, trying to speak as if going to a full-fight were 
an everyday occurrence. “All the boys I know go.” 

“ Oh, Perico, I know. Couldn’t you—wouldn’t 
you-” 

“Wouldn’t I what?” demanded Perico, looking 
in astonishment at his cousin’s flushed, imploring 
face. 

“ Take me with you,” said Pepita, almost in a 
whisper. 

Perico laughed scornfully. 

“ Take you with me,” he repeated. “ Certainly 
not. Girls don’t go to bull-fights.” 

“ Ladies do,” pleaded Pepita. 

“ Mamma does not. Papa took her once when 
they were first married, and she fainted, and had to 
be carried out.” 

“ But I wouldn’t faint, you know I wouldn’t. A 
great many ladies go, Perico, even if Aunt Dolores 



54 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


doesn’t. One day when we were driving, we passed 
the bull-ring just as people were going in, and there 
were carriages and carriages filled with ladies, in 
beautiful dresses, and lace mantillas over their heads. 
Mrs. O’Dowd told us some of the most fashionable 
people have boxes at the bull-ring. Ah, Perico, 
please take me. It will be an adventure, and I have 
never had a real adventure in my life.” 

Pepita raised beseeching eyes to her cousin’s face, 
and Perico—who was very fond of her—wavered. 

“ How would you manage to get away? ” he in¬ 
quired doubtfully. 

“ Oh, that would be quite easy. It is Mrs. 
O’Dowd’s afternoon out, and she is going to tea 
with her friend, Mrs. Brown. Aunt Dolores and 
Uncle Miguel are going to a concert. Nobody will 
know except Ines, and she won’t tell.” 

“ But they will find out afterwards,” objected 
Perico. 

“ Certainly, but that will not matter. I shall tell 
where I have been when I come home. I always tell 
after I have done things. Aunt Dolores will only 
scold a little. She never is really angry.” 

“ But they will blame me, and say I should not 
have taken you. A bull-fight is not the proper place 
for a little girl. Besides, you will be frightened.” 

Pepita’s black eyes flashed indignantly. 

“ I wasn’t afraid the night the rat got into our 
room. Ines nearly fainted, and Mrs. O’Dowd stood 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 


55 


on a chair and screamed, but I took the poker and 
chased the rat out into the passage. Why should I 
be more frightened at a bull-fight than all those 
ladies we saw going in? ” 

This argument was unanswerable, and after a lit¬ 
tle more pleading on Pepita’s part, Perico yielded a 
reluctant consent. 

“ I will take you/’ he said; “ but if anything goes 
wrong, it will be your fault, not mine.” 

Pepita uttered a little squeal of delight, and 
started on a run for the house, whence a warn¬ 
ing bell was summoning them to prepare for lunch¬ 
eon. 

It was hard to sit still through the long, rather 
ceremonious meal. There were guests present, two 
gentlemen from Granada, who talked politics with 
Uncle Miguel, while Aunt Dolores and the two little 
girls sat in polite silence. Perico was bold enough 
to venture an occasional remark, at which his mother 
beamed with pride. In her opinion there was no 
one in the world quite so clever or so talented as her 
only son. 

As soon as luncheon was over, Aunt Dolores and 
the little girls withdrew, leaving the gentlemen to 
linger over their cigars. Perico managed to give 
his cousin a significant glance as they left the room, 
and with his lips to form the words “ half-past 
three, in the garden.” Aunt Dolores went to her 
room to take her siesta, and Pepita and Ines betook 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


56 

themselves to their favorite spot, the inner court, 
where the fountain was. 

“ What shall we do ? ” Pepita inquired, with a 
vague hope that her cousin might propose something 
new in the way of amusement. 

Ines yawned and stretched herself on a divan. 

“ I think I will go to sleep,” she said. “ Perhaps 
by and by, when it is cooler, Perico will play croquet 
with us.” 

“ I don’t understand how it is that you can always 
go to sleep at the same time every day,” said Pepita, 
a little impatiently. “ I am not at all sleepy, and I 
hate always doing the same things. Let us play 
cards. That new game Perico taught us is very 
amusing.” 

But Ines was not to be persuaded. 

“ By and by,” she promised drowsily, “ after we 
have taken our siesta. If you are not sleepy you 
can read. There is nothing like reading to put one 
to sleep.” 

“ That depends upon the book,” said Pepita. 
“ Some books make one sleepy; the one I am read¬ 
ing in English with Mrs. O’Dowd, for instance.” 

“ Do you suppose English books are even duller 
than ours ? ” Ines inquired with languid interest. 

“ I don’t know, I am sure. The ones Mrs. 
O’Dowd gives me to read are certainly dull enough. 
The one we are reading now is called ‘ The Parents’ 
Assistant,’ by Maria Edgworth. Mrs. O’Dowd says 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 


57 


a friend of hers, who is a governess, gave it to her 
for me, because the English is so good. I think 
some English books must be interesting, though, for 
Mrs. O’Dowd told me an English story the other day 
about a little girl who was carried off by Indians 
and had wonderful adventures. It was very ex¬ 
citing.” 

“ You may tell me that story now if you like.” 

“Very well, I will,” and Pepita began; but long 
before the brave young hero had rescued the heroine 
from her captors, Ines’ regular breathing indicated 
that she was fast asleep. 

“ I wonder why she is never interested in things,” 
reflected Pepita, as she came to a sudden pause in 
her story, and regarded her sleeping companion with 
a rather contemptuous gaze. “ It is beautiful to be 
good and sweet and religious, but she would be so 
much more interesting if she were not always falling 
asleep.” 

Pepita was not in the least sleepy herself; she had 
far more interesting things to think about. She was 
quite aware of the fact that going to a bull-fight was 
a thing unheard of in the Lopez household. Aunt 
Dolores would probably cry, and Uncle Miguel 
would scold, but then ladies did go to bull-fights, 
and Aunt Dolores always thought everything Perico 
did was right. 

Ines was still sleeping peacefully an hour later, 
when Pepita, wearing her best hat and carrying the 


58 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


new pink parasol Perico had brought her from 
Madrid, stole softly out into the sunny garden. She 
had met with no difficulties, for Mrs. O’Dowd had 
already gone out, and she had not encountered any 
of the servants on the way from her room. Perico 
was already in the garden, lounging on a bench 
under an orange tree. At sight of his cousin, how¬ 
ever, he sprang from his seat and crossed the lawn 
to meet her. 

“ I was just going to start without you,” he said. 
“ If we are late, all the good seats will be sold.” 

“ It is only just half-past three,” Pepita reminded 
him gently. “ Oh, Perico, it is heavenly of you to 
take me. I am so excited.” 

“ Perhaps when you have seen the bull-fight you 
won’t think me quite so heavenly,” said Perico, 
whose doubts were not by any means satisfied. “ You 
must understand one thing. If you go, you must 
stay till the end. Don’t expect me to take you out 
before the fight is over.” 

“ Certainly not,” Pepita assured him confidently. 
“ I shall not want to come out. I love exciting 
things.” 

Perico made no further stipulations, and two min¬ 
utes later they had closed the heavy garden-door be¬ 
hind them, and were walking briskly along the hot, 
sun-baked street. 

It was some distance to the bull-ring, and Perico, 
who felt unusually rich, owing to a present he had 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 


59 


received that morning from his father, hailed a one- 
horse open cab. As she stepped into the rather 
shabby vehicle, Pepita gave a little chuckle of de¬ 
light. 

“ This is the most exciting thing I ever did, Pe¬ 
rico,” she said. “ I feel as if I were really going to 
have an adventure at last. I left a note for Ines; 
she will find it on her pillow when she wakes. I 
told her I was going out with you, but didn’t men¬ 
tion the bull-fight. Ines wouldn’t have gone with 
us, even if you had asked her; she would have been 
afraid/’ 

“ Certainly she would not have gone,” said Ines’ 
brother. “ Ines is a lady.” 

Pepita flushed but said nothing. Even if Perico 
did not consider her a lady, she had no mind to give 
up the expedition. 

By the time they reached the famous bull-ring it 
was nearly four o’clock, and people were crowding 
the street and the ticket-office to such an extent that 
Pepita was obliged to cling to her cousin to save 
herself from being swept away from him by the 
pushing, jostling throng. But Perico did not seem 
in the least disturbed. 

“ It is always like this,” he assured her. “ Tonio, 
the famous toreador, is to fight this afternoon. They 
say he has killed more bulls than any other toreador 
in Spain.” 

Pepita gave a little gasp. Somehow she had not 


6o 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


thought of killing in connection with a bull-fight. 
She said nothing, however, and it really was such a 
gay scene that it did not seem possible there could be 
anything dreadful to follow. 

By the time they were in their seats, the horses, 
each mounted by a tall picador, had come into the 
ring, and the band had begun to play. 

“ What a dreadful noise the people make,” said 
Pepita. “ I wish they wouldn’t shout so; I want to 
hear the music.” 

She was obliged to shout herself in order to make 
Perico hear her, for, indeed, the roar of excited 
voices was deafening. 

“A bull-fight is not a concert,” Perico told her. 
“ No one cares about the band. Look at the horses.” 

“ I am looking at them,” said Pepita. “ What 
makes them so thin? I should think those men 
would hate to ride such poor starved-looking crea¬ 
tures.” 

. “ Look here,” said Perico, turning upon his cousin 
in sudden apprehension, “ I don’t believe you know 
what a bull-fight really is. Certainly the horses are 
old and thin. Who wants to see a fine horse torn to 
pieces? ” 

“ Torn to pieces! ” gasped Pepita, turning 
rather pale. “Oh, Perico, they don’t—you don’t 
mean-” 

But Perico’s answer was drowned in a great burst 
of cheers, for at that moment there was a blast of 



GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 


6l 


trumpets, and the bull was led into 1 the ring. For 
the first few seconds the poor creature stood still, 
bewildered, not knowing what was expected of him. 
Then one of the picadors rode up, and touched him 
slightly with his sword, while another waved a red 
cloth in his face. There was a loud bellow, a rush, 
and then all at once things began to happen,—dread¬ 
ful, horrible things. Pepita uttered a stifled 
scream, and caught her cousin’s arm. 

“ Perico, I can’t bear it. Oh, come away quick. 
It’s cruel, wicked; I can’t-” 

But Perico, who was growing as excited as the 
rest of the people, shook off her hand impatiently. 

“ I told you that you wouldn’t like it,” he said, 
“ but you would come. Keep your eyes shut if you 
don’t want to look.” 

Pepita pressed her hands tightly over her eyes, 
but she could not shut out the dreadful noise, and 
the next five minutes were about the most miserable 
she had ever spent in her life. Then curiosity to 
know what was really happening became too strong 
to be any longer resisted, and she opened her eyes. 
The next moment she had sprung to her feet with a 
piercing scream, and before the astonished and in¬ 
dignant Perico had at all realized what was happen¬ 
ing, she had tumbled in a little heap on the ground. 

“ You told me you wouldn’t faint. You 
promised.” 



62 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


Perico’s voice was stern, and his handsome, 
boyish face looked black. Pepita sat up, and 
brushed the wet hair out of her eyes. She was no 
longer in the dreadful bull-ring, but lying on a 
couch in a little room, and a woman with a kind 
face was standing beside her, holding a basin of 
water. At the sound of her cousin’s indignant 
words she began to cry. 

“ I didn’t mean to, Perico,” she sobbed repent¬ 
antly, “ indeed I didn’t, but I never dreamed a bull¬ 
fight would be like that. The poor horses, and the 
blood, and-” 

“ Don’t think about it, senorita,” said the woman 
gently. “ There is nothing to be ashamed of. 
Many ladies faint at their first bull-fight. They are 
often carried in here, and I have everything ready 
for them. But a bull-fight is no place for a little 
senorita like you. You should not have brought 
her,” she added, turning reproachfully to Perico. 

“ Oh, it wasn’t his fault,” explained Pepita, be¬ 
fore her cousin could answer. “ I wanted to come. 
He didn’t want to bring me. It was all my fault.” 

“ Of course I didn’t want to bring you,” said 
Perico crossly. “ I knew no girl could stand it. 
Now I suppose I shall have to take you home, and 
my whole afternoon will be spoiled.” 

Pepita was very much distressed. She had of¬ 
fended Perico, the young lord of the house, and, 
when offended, Perico was apt to be disagreeable. 



GOING TO A BULLFIGHT 


63 


“ I am very, very sorry, Perico,” she sobbed. 
“ I don’t want to spoil your afternoon, but I 
couldn’t go back to that dreadful place, indeed I 
couldn’t.” 

“ The senorita might stay here with me until the 
bull-fight is over,” suggested the woman, who was 
looking almost as much distressed as Pepita her¬ 
self. 

Perico’s face brightened. 

“ That might do,” he said. “ Will you stay 
here, Pepita? I will come back for you as soon as 
it is over.” 

“Yes, oh, yes,” cried Pepita; “I will stay any¬ 
where you want me to, only please, please don’t be 
angry with me. Indeed I didn’t intend to faint.” 

Perico had already turned to the woman, and did 
not seem to hear the latter part of his cousin’s poor 
little speech. 

“ I will leave the senorita with you,” he said; and 
in another moment the door of the little waiting- 
room had closed behind him, and Pepita and the 
woman were left alone. 

With a feeling of unutterable relief, Pepita sank 
back on the sofa and closed her eyes. She still felt 
rather faint and queer, and her heart was beating 
fast. The woman held a glass of water to her lips. 

“ Drink this,” she said kindly; “ it will make you 
feel better. It was cruel to bring you here; you are 
far too young for such sights.” 


64 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ It was my fault,” repeated Pepita loyally; and, 
having sipped the water, she added with a shudder: 

“ I didn’t know a bull-fight was like that. I am 
glad Aunt Dolores never goes. Do ladies really 
like such cruel things ? ” 

The woman smiled rather grimly. 

“ I suppose some of them do,” she said, “ or 
they would not come. I can never bear to look at 
a bull-fight myself, though my husband is a picador, 
and we have lived here, close to the bull-ring, for 
years. It is a cruel sport, and not fit for the eyes 
of women and children. Do you feel better now ? ” 

“ Much better,” said Pepita, “ but—but couldn’t 
we go somewhere farther away from that dreadful 
shouting and cheering ? I don’t like to hear it, even 
in the distance.” 

“ I am afraid not,” the woman answered regret¬ 
fully. “ It is my duty to stay here during the bull¬ 
fights, to help ladies who may feel faint. I am 
sorry, but I fear it cannot be helped.” 

At that moment the sound of distant shouting 
rose to a roar, mingled with applause and wild 
ejaculations of excitement. 

“ That means that the first bull is dead,” the 
woman explained. 

Instinctively Pepita put her hands to her ears. 

“ I can’t bear it,” she cried, “ it’s too dreadful! ” 
And for the next hour she sat huddled up in a little 
heap, her fingers tightly pressed to her ears. 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 


65 


That was about the longest afternoon Pepita had 
ever spent, as well as the most miserable. When 
it was over at last, and Perico, looking a trifle pale 
himself, came back for her, she was such a picture 
of misery, with her white cheeks and swollen eyes, 
that even that young despot could not help feeling 
sorry for her. 

“ I shall take you home in a cab,” he said, and, 
having given the picador's wife a liberal tip, he led 
the way out into the sunny street. 

“Is it over?” faltered Pepita timidly. “Why 
don’t the people come out ? ” 

“ Well, it isn’t quite over yet,” Perico admitted. 
“ I thought I would come out before the crowd. 
It is after six, and I suppose Papa and Mamma will 
be wondering where we are.” 

“ Did you—did you enjoy it as much as you ex¬ 
pected ? ” Pepita ventured to inquire, as they rattled 
away in their cab. 

Perico hesitated. He was, on the whole, a truth¬ 
ful boy. 

“ One has to become accustomed to these things,” 
he said evasively. “ I shall probably enjoy the next 
one more.” 

“ I shall never go to another, never as long 
as I live,” declared Pepita. “ I did not know 
that people could be so cruel as to enjoy such 
things.” 

Perico muttered an impatient “ Nonsense,” but 


66 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


did not continue the conversation, and the drive 
home was a very silent one. 

It was a very meek Pepita and a rather shame¬ 
faced Perico who presented themselves before the 
assembled family in the garden. Uncle Miguel and 
Aunt Dolores had just returned, and been met by 
Ines with the news that Perico and Pepita had been 
out for hours, and nobody knew where they had 
gone. To do Perico justice, he was no coward. 
He told the story of the afternoon’s adventures in 
the fewest possible words, merely remarking, with 
his usual coolness, “ Pepita and I have been to the 
bull-fight.” 

“ Been to the bull-fight,” repeated Uncle Miguel 
incredulously. “ My boy, what does this mean? 
You have taken your cousin to a bull-fight? ” 

Aunt Dolores threw up her hands with a little 
shriek of horror. 

“ It was my fault, Uncle,” said Pepita. “ Perico 
didn’t want to take me, but I insisted on going. 
Please don’t be angry with him.” 

Uncle Miguel, who was rarely angry with any 
one, glanced doubtfully from one culprit to the 
other, but before he could speak, Aunt Dolores had 
begun to cry. 

“ Oh, Pepita,” she wailed, “ what shall I do with 
you? A child of your age to be seen at a disgust¬ 
ing bull-fight! You can have no proper feelings or 
you could not have watched such a sight.” 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 67 

“I didn’t watch it,” began Pepita; “ I didn’t 
know what it was like. I-” 

But here Aunt Dolores cut her short. 

“Go to your room at once,” she commanded. 
“ Your dinner will be sent to you. I do not wish 
to see you again to-night.” 

Pepita had been in bed for a long time when 
there was a gentle tap at her door, and Ines came 
softly in. 

“Are you asleep, Pepita?” she whispered. 

“ No,” said Pepita, sitting up in bed. “ What 
time is it ? ” 

“ Only half-past nine, but I said I was sleepy, and 
Mamma told me to go to bed. I have missed you 
very much.” 

“What have you all been doing?” Pepita in¬ 
quired, as her cousin seated herself on the edge of 
the bed, preparatory to having a little chat. 

“ Mamma embroidered, and Papa read the news¬ 
paper. Perico played on the piano for a little while, 
and then went to his room. I asked him to come 
out into the garden, but he said he had a letter to 
write. I don’t think I amuse Perico very much. 
He never seems to enjoy being with me when you 
are not with us.” 

Ines sighed a patient little sigh, and Pepita, who 
could not deny the truth of her cousin’s words, 
hastened to change the subject. 



68 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Did they talk about me ? ” she asked. 

“ Yes, a little,” Ines admitted reluctantly. 

“ What did they say ? ” 

“ Mamma cried a little, and said she hoped none 
of our friends had seen you at the bull-ring; and 
Papa said—but never mind that. Tell me about the 
bull-fight, Pepita. Was it very wonderful? ” 

“ It was dreadful,” said Pepita; “ the most dread¬ 
ful thing I ever saw in my life. I only stayed a few 
minutes; then I fainted, and Perico had to carry me 
out. I spent all the rest of the afternoon with a 
woman in a little house close to the bull-ring. Her 
husband is a picador, and she looks after ladies who 
are made ill by those dreadful fights. Didn’t Perico 
tell you ? ” 

“Not a word,” said Ines. “ Perhaps he thought 
you would rather not have him tell.” 

Pepita flushed with pleasure. 

“ I am glad,” she said. “ I shouldn’t like to have 
Aunt Dolores and Uncle Miguel know I had been 
such a coward. But, oh, Ines, I don’t like to think 
about it; it was so horrible. I know I shall dream 
of it all night. I wish you could come and sleep 
with me, but I suppose Aunt Dolores would object.” 

Ines shook her head. 

“ I am afraid she would,” she said. “ Besides, 
you toss so, you would keep me awake. I suppose 
you ought to be punished a little for being so 
naughty, but I am very sorry.” 


GOING TO A BULL-FIGHT 


69 


“ I think I am being punished a good deal,” said 
Pepita, mournfully. “ I lost my lovely new 
parasol, too. I must have dropped it when I 
fainted.” Ines rose with a yawn. 

“ Well, I am going to bed,” she said. “ I am 
sorry about the parasol, but if you are good perhaps 
Mamma will buy you another. I hoped you would 
tell me about the bull-fight, but if it was so dread¬ 
ful, perhaps I’d better not hear it. It might make 
me dream, too. Good-night. I hope you will sleep 
well.” 

“ Wait a minute,” said Pepita; “ I want to know 
something more. You didn’t tell me what it was 
that Uncle Miguel said.” 

“ Oh,” said Ines blushing, “ it really wasn’t any¬ 
thing. He just shrugged his shoulders in that way 
he does when he is amused, and said he supposed it 
was the American in you that made you so different 
from me.” 

Pepita buried her face in the pillows with a sob. 

“ That is the worst of all,” she moaned; “ he 
couldn’t have said anything worse. I hate being an 
American, and I won’t be one; I won’t, I won’t! ” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE LETTER FROM AMERICA 

S IX weeks had passed since that memorable 
June afternoon,—six bright summer weeks, 
—and the episode of the bull-fight had begun 
to fade from the memory of the Lopez household. 
It was quite true, as Ines had said, “ Mamma never 
stays angry long ”; and, having administered as 
severe a punishment as she deemed necessary to her 
little niece, Senora Lopez was quite willing, in her 
good-natured, easy-going way, to let the whole af¬ 
fair sink into oblivion. Even Pepita had ceased to 
dream of bull-fights, and, but for one thing, would 
have almost forgotten the incident by the middle of 
July, when the family were preparing for their 
annual month at the seaside. But there was one 
result of that afternoon that could not be so easily 
banished from her mind. Ever since that day there 
had been a marked difference in Perico’s behavior 
towards his cousin. She still loved and admired 
Perico as much as ever, but it was evident that 
Perico himself was beginning to tire of the society 
of little girls. He was nearly sixteen, and in Sep¬ 
tember was to join his ship at Gibraltar. As a 

prospective midshipman he considered it beneath his 

70 


THE LETTER FROM AMERICA 7 1 

dignity to be seen going about with a sister and 
cousin, both several years younger than himself. 
He had begun going about more with boys of his 
own age, and his family saw comparatively little of 
him. So Pepita fell to thinking rather sadly of that 
afternoon of the bull-fight as the last time she and 
Perico would ever be together, as they had been in 
the old days before her cousin went away to the 
naval academy. 

“ I know he despises me,” she told Ines mourn¬ 
fully, on the day before they were to start for San 
Sebastian, when Perico, after making a disparaging 
remark about girls not being good company, had 
departed to join a party of friends who had planned 
to spend the day in the country. “ It is because he 
considers me a coward.” 

“ I shouldn’t mind being considered a coward,” 
returned Ines cheerfully. “ I am one myself. I 
really don’t see why you care so much. I think we 
have very pleasant times by ourselves.” 

Ines sighed, and regarded her cousin thought¬ 
fully. Ines was such a plump, placid little soul; 
nothing ever seemed to trouble her much. 

The children were in their favorite spot beside 
the fountain in the inner court. Ines was feeding 
the goldfish as usual. Up-stairs everything was in 
confusion, and Aunt Dolores, Mrs. O’Dowd, and 
Annette, the French maid, were all busy packing for 
the morrow’s journey. 


72 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ I don’t like to have things change,” she said. 
“ Anything would be better than having Perico stay 
away all day long, and scarcely speak to us when he 
is at home.” 

“ Perico never teased you as he did me,” said 
Ines reflectively. “ Once he pulled my kitten’s tail, 
and another time he-” 

“ Oh, never mind,” interrupted Pepita impa¬ 
tiently. “ He knew you were a baby, and every 
one likes to tease babies.” 

“ I am only six months younger than you,” 
objected Ines plaintively, “ but I don’t mind your 
calling me a baby. Babies are always petted and 
have nice things given them. I don’t care much 
about boys at any rate. Of course I love Perico 
because he is my brother, but if he prefers playing 
with other boys to going about with us, I don’t par¬ 
ticularly mind.” 

“ Perhaps he will be nicer when we get to San 
Sebastian,” said Pepita. “ Those Cortez boys 
won’t be there, and when he has no one else to 
amuse him, perhaps he will stay with us. Oh, Ines, 
aren’t you glad we are going to-morrow? I do so 
love travelling.” 

“ I don’t know,” said Ines. “ I think it is very 
pleasant here, and you know I am always sick on 
the train. Just look at those two big fish fighting 
for that bit of biscuit.” 

“ Ines,” exclaimed Pepita, in sudden exaspera- 



THE LETTER FROM AMERICA 73 

tion, “ don’t you ever get excited over anything in 
this world? ” 

“ Why, yes, certainly I do,” returned Ines, her 
big, dark eyes opening wide in surprise. “ I was 
very much excited the day we had that terrible 
thunderstorm, and that time last winter, when we 
heard there had been an accident to the Madrid 
express, and Mamma was afraid Papa was on 
board. And-•” 

“ Oh, I don’t mean that kind of excitement. I 
mean excited about doing things, and going to 
places. Just think, we are going to that wonderful 
seaside, and we shall bathe and sail and do all sorts 
of interesting things. I have been counting the 
days for a week. I’m so glad Mrs. O’Dowd has 
asked for a holiday. I shall not speak a word of 
that horrid English the whole time we are at San 
Sebastian.” 

“ I wonder why you hate English so much,” re¬ 
marked Ines, rather glad to change the subject of 
her own deficiencies. 

Pepita made a face. 

“ It is such an ugly language,” she said; “ and 
they talk it in America. I don’t want to learn the 
language they speak in that dreadful country.” 

“ Perhaps America is not such a dreadful country 
as you think. There were some people talking 
English in the cathedral the other day, and Mamma 
said she was sure they were Americans. They 



74 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


were a father and mother, and two girls, and a boy, 
and they had such nice faces and seemed so happy. 
The mother was very pretty and so was one of the 

girls.” 

“ America is a cold, cruel country,” said Pepita 
positively. “ It killed my mother. I shall never 
go there, so what is the use in learning English ? ” 

“ Your father might send for you some time,” 
suggested Ines. “ Mademoiselle said he might, and 
then you would have to go.” 

Pepita shook her head resolutely. 

“ I shall never go,” she said. “ My mother made 
my father promise to bring me here to Aunt 
Dolores; she told me so. She will never let me go. 
Oh, Mrs. O’Dowd, what do you want? I need not 
have an English lesson to-day; Aunt Dolores said I 
need have no more lessons till we come back from 
San Sebastian.” 

“ No, darlin’, it isn’t for a lesson I’m wantin’ 
you,” said Mrs. O’Dowd, pausing halfway down 
the stone steps into the court, her plain, good- 
natured face looking unusually grave. “ It’s 
the madam herself who wants you in her 
room.” 

Pepita, who had been sitting on the edge of the 
fountain dabbling her hands in the water, hastily 
scrambled to her feet. 

“ What does Aunt Dolores want me for?” she 
inquired, hastily casting about in her mind for any 


THE LETTER FROM AMERICA 7$ 

misdemeanor which her aunt might consider re¬ 
quired a lecture. 

“ You’ll see when you get there/’ was Mrs. 
O’Dowd’s unsatisfactory reply; and Pepita, still 
wondering what her offense could have been, hur¬ 
ried away to her aunt’s room. 

Senora Lopez’s room was a scene of indescribable 
confusion. Every article of furniture was covered 
with dresses, hats, and other articles of clothing; 
two large open trunks stood in the middle of the 
floor, and the senora herself was leaning back in an 
armchair with her handkerchief before her face, 
crying as if her heart would break. On the thresh¬ 
old Pepita paused in sudden terror. What, what 
could have happened? Such grief could not pos¬ 
sibly have been caused by any act of her little niece. 
To be sure, Aunt Dolores cried very easily, but 
still- 

At the sound of Pepita’s approaching footsteps 
Aunt Dolores lifted her face from her handkerchief 
and impulsively held out her arms. 

“Come to me, my child,” she cried; ‘'come to 
your poor, heart-broken aunt! ” 

“ Oh, Aunt Dolores,” cried Pepita, running into 
her aunt’s embrace. “ What is it ? Have I done 
something wrong? I don’t know what it is, but I 
am very sorry.” 

Aunt Dolores’ only reply was to hug her little 
niece tight, and sob all the harder. Annette, who 



76 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


had left off packing in the interest of the moment, 
stood regarding the scene with eyes and mouth wide 
open. 

“ Poor Madame is in great sorrow,” she mur¬ 
mured sympathetically in French. “ It is the letter 
that has upset her so much.” And she glanced at 
a sheet of paper which had evidently dropped from 
Sehora Lopez’s hand to the floor at her feet. 

“ Yes, yes, it is the letter,” moaned Aunt Dolores 
between her sobs. “ Oh, my little Pepita; it is your 
father! ” 

“Is my father dead?” Pepita asked, and her 
heart gave a big jump. She did not remember her 
father very well, but to hear that he was dead- 

“ No, no, he is not dead. I could almost wish— 
but what am I saying? Your father is well, my 
child, but he has sent for you to come to his home 
in America.” 

“ What! ” shrieked Pepita, her eyes round with 
horror. “ But I won’t go,” she added passionately. 
“ Oh, Aunt Dolores, you won’t let me go! ” 

There was a fresh burst of sobs from Aunt 
Dolores at this appeal. 

“ But, my darling, what can I do? If it rested 
with me, you should never leave me. I would be 
torn in pieces before I would let you go. But your 
father has the right to do with you as he wishes, 
and he has written that you are to be sent to 
America.” 



THE LETTER FROM AMERICA 


77 


“ But—but/’ faltered Pepita, who had grown 
very pale, “ you always told me my mamma gave 
me to you and Grandmamma. Oh, Aunt Dolores, 
I can’t go to America; I can’t, I can’t! ” And the 
poor child flung her arms round her aunt’s neck, and 
clung to her. 

Poor Aunt Dolores was, if possible, more over¬ 
come than before, and for some time could do noth¬ 
ing but sob and moan in such a hysterical way that 
Annette became alarmed and hurried away in quest 
of Mrs. O’Dowd. When that lady presented her¬ 
self upon the scene, she promptly forgot every 
language but her own, and began demanding, 
“ What’s the matter—whatever is the matter 
now ? ” in such shrill and persistent tones that 
Senora Lopez was recalled to the urgent necessity 
of making some reply. 

“ It is a letter,” she gasped, “ from my brother- 
in-law in America. He wishes to have Pepita sent 
there at once.” 

“ Well, and why shouldn’t he?” inquired practi¬ 
cal Bridget O’Dowd, this time remembering to speak 
in Spanish. “ It’s only natural that a man should 
want to see his own child once in a while. There, 
there, Pepita darlin’,” she added soothingly, and 
once more relapsing into English, “ don’t take on so. 
Don’t you see how hard you’re makin’ it for your 
poor aunt ? ” 

But Pepita was far beyond heeding this advice. 


78 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“You won’t make me go, Aunt Dolores?” she 
pleaded. “ I shall die if you send me to that 
cold, cruel country. My mamma died there, you 
know.” 

“ Nonsense,” interrupted Mrs. O’Dowd sharply. 
“ I’ve never been to America meself, but me hus¬ 
band was there once, and he said it was about as 
fine a country as he’d ever seen, and he’d been pretty 
near all over the world, too. If you don’t stop 
carryin’ on, and upsettin’ your aunt this way, I’ll 
spank you, as true as I’m alive I will.” 

This awful threat was too much for Pepita, even 
in her present state, and with a mighty effort she 
pulled herself together, and loosened her clasp round 
her aunt’s neck. 

“ But I can’t leave Aunt Dolores, and Perico, and 
Ines, and every one,” she sobbed. “Aunt Dolores 
told me my mamma gave me to her before she died.” 

“ Well, maybe she did, but that isn’t sayin’ your 
father gave you to her, and maybe he feels he’d 
like to have his little girl with him after all these 
years.” 

“ That is it; that is just what has happened,” 
murmured Aunt Dolores, lifting her tear-stained 
face from her handkerchief. “ My brother-in-law 
is a captain in the United States Navy, and he is 
returning from a five-year cruise in the Pacific. His 
ship is stationed off California now, but he expects 
to go home this winter, and to resign from the navy 


THE LETTER FROM AMERICA 79 

and live with his sister. He wishes to have Pepita 
sent at once.” 

“At once! ” repeated Mrs. O’Dowd, her own face 
falling. “ How is he goin’ to get her there? ” 

“ He has a friend, the captain of a steamer sailing 
from Gibraltar this month. The captain’s wife is 
with him on this voyage, and they have offered to 
take care of the child. My brother-in-law says his 
sister will keep Pepita with her until his return.” 

It was late in the afternoon when Perico, who 
had been off on a day’s excursion with a party of 
friends, returned and found his sister and cousin 
sitting disconsolately under an orange-tree in the 
garden. Pepita’s head was buried in Ines’s lap. 

“ Halloa! ” exclaimed Perico, stopping short in 
his surprise. “ Has Pepita hurt herself, or is she 
ill?” 

“ No,” said Ines, lifting solemn eyes to her 
brother’s face; “ Pepita has not hurt herself, and 
she is not ill, but she is very unhappy, and so am L 
Pepita’s father has sent for her to go to America, 
and she is to sail from Gibraltar next week, so we 
are not to go to San Sebastian to-morrow after 
all.” 

“ What! ” cried Perico, his dark face flushing 
angrily. “ Pepita going to America ? But she shall 
not go; I will not permit it.” 

Ines uttered a little gasp of mingled horror and 


8 o 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


admiration, and Pepita lifted her head from her 
cousin’s lap. 

“ Can you really prevent it, Perico ? ” she de¬ 
manded eagerly. “ Oh, if you really can, I will do 
anything in the world for you.” 

“ Tell me about it,” said Perico, seating himself 
on the grass between the two little girls. “ I do not 
wish to have any of my family go to America. I 
do not like the Americans. They fought us and 
took away our possessions. Who says Pepita is to 
go there ? ” 

But when Perico had heard the story, he did not 
appear quite so confident of being able to prevent the 
catastrophe. 

“Of course if Pepita’s father has sent for her, 
and Papa and Mamina have given their consent, it 
may be difficult for me to interfere,” he admitted 
reluctantly. “ I shall speak very seriously to Papa 
on the subject, but it may not be of any use.” 

“ I am afraid it won’t,” said Pepita mournfully. 
“Aunt Dolores is very unhappy about it, and so is 
Uncle Miguel, but they say it is their duty to let me 
go. I think, Perico, perhaps it might be as well not 
to bother Uncle Miguel. I don’t want to make 
people any more unhappy than I can help. But, oh, 
it is very terrible! ” And poor Pepita’s sentence 
ended in a burst of tears. 

So Perico decided not to interfere, which was 
probably the wisest decision he could have made 


THE LETTER FROM AMERICA Si 

under the circumstances. He was really very fond 
of his little cousin, and the thought of her going so 
far away was anything but agreeable. Still, he re¬ 
flected, he would soon be going away himself. 

“ Why, I may even be in America before long,” 
he assured Pepita. “ No one knows where our ship 
may be sent, and if I am in your part of the world, 
we may have some fine times together. So cheer 
up, Pepita; it isn’t half bad to see something of the 
world, you know.” 

But in spite of this prediction, the day was a very 
dark one for poor little Pepita, and for all who 
loved her as well. She and Ines had always been 
good friends, but it seemed to Pepita as if she had 
never before realized how dearly she loved her 
cousin. The two little girls clung to each other, 
Pepita railing against the fate that was tearing her 
away from home and friends, and Ines crying softly 
most of the time, and promising over and over 
again never to forget her cousin, and assuring her 
that she had only to ask to become the possessor of 
her string of Egyptian pearls, or any other treasure 
that might take her fancy. But Pepita was far too 
unhappy to be cheered by the thought of Egyptian 
beads. Even the thought of leaving Mrs. O’Dowd 
was a heart-break, although hitherto she had been 
inclined to regard the Irish governess with anything 
but the deepest affection. Uncle Miguel, when ap¬ 
pealed to, had proved quite as hopeless as Aunt 


82 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


Dolores. It made him very sad to think of parting 
with his little niece, he told Pepita, but if her father 
wanted her, there was no question but that it was 
the duty of her relatives to let her go. Indeed, he 
was already in correspondence with the captain of 
the ship whose wife had consented to take charge of 
Pepita during the voyage. 

It was late in the evening. Aunt Dolores, worn 
out from excitement and tears, had gone to bed with 
a headache. Uncle Miguel was out, and the three 
children were alone in the salon. Perico was drum¬ 
ming on the piano, singing snatches of gay little 
tunes, in a vain attempt to cheer the two little 
girls, who sat huddled together on a sofa. He 
had just finished a particularly lively tune, and was 
turning over some sheets of music in search of an¬ 
other, when Annette appeared in the doorway with 
an announcement. 

“ It is Agustina, the girl from the tower,” she 
said. “ She would like to speak to Mademoiselle 
Pepita.” 

Pepita and Ines rose at once, and Ines remarked 
in a tone of sudden interest: “ I wonder what she 
wants. I hope Rafaelo is not ill.” 

The two little girls hurried out into the court, and 
there, her face wreathed in smiles, stood a girl of 
sixteen, carrying a basket. 

“ Good-evening, Agustina,” said Pepita. “ An¬ 
nette said you wanted to see me.” 


THE LETTER FROM AMERICA 83 

“ Yes, senorita, I do. It is Rafaelo who has sent 
me. I have brought you the monkey.” 

As she spoke, Agustina unfastened the cover of 
the basket, and out sprang a tiny figure in a crimson 
velvet coat, at sight of which both children uttered 
a simultaneous cry of astonishment and delight. 

“ Is he not adorable? ” cried Agustina, her honest 
face beaming. “ I made the coat, and Rafaelo 
taught him the tricks. Abdul, bow to the ladies.” 

Instantly the monkey placed himself in position 
and bowed profoundly. 

“ That is right. Now dance.” 

Agustina began humming a waltz, and the monkey 
proceeded to dance, keeping perfect time to the tune. 
It was so fascinating that for the moment even the 
thought of going to America was forgotten, and 
Pepita clapped her hands and shrieked for Perico 
to come and see what was happening. 

“ He knows many other tricks,” Agustina assured 
them proudly. “ He can tie a napkin round his neck 
and feed himself with a spoon. He can also make 
his bed. He knows us all, and loves Rafaelo very 
much. He will soon know you too, senorita, and 
will love you if you pet him and give him sugar. 
Take him in your arms, and you will see how gentle 
he is. He never bites, as some monkeys do.” 

“ He is the most wonderful pet I have ever seen,” 
declared Pepita, as the monkey perched contentedly 
on her shoulder, and began to pull one of her long 


8 4 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


curls. “ I think Rafaelo was an angel to give him 
to me, and I shall keep him always, always. Even 
going to America won’t be quite so bad now that I 
can have Abdul with me for company.” 


CHAPTER V 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 

T IME to get up, Pepita; we're almost in.” 

Pepita stirred and opened her eyes. 
She had been dreaming that she and 
Perico were running races in the garden, and for a 
moment could not remember where she was. But a 
glance around the tiny cabin, and at the kind face 
smiling at her from the doorway, brought a rush of 
recollection, and she sat up so suddenly as to nar¬ 
rowly escape bumping her head against the upper 
berth. 

“ Is it America?” she demanded. “Oh, Mrs. 
Pool, is it America ? ” 

“ It's Boston,” the woman in the doorway an¬ 
swered. “ The ship will dock in about an hour.” 
Pepita gave a long sigh, and lay down again. 

“ I do not wish to leave the ship,” she said, in her 
slow, broken English. “ I wish to go back to Gi¬ 
braltar.” 

Mrs. Pool laughed. She was a pretty young 
woman with dimples, and Pepita had grown to like 
her very much in the two weeks of their acquaint¬ 
ance. 


*5 


86 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ I’m afraid you couldn’t do that,” she said. 
“ What would your family say ? Besides, there 
wouldn’t be any one to look after you on the ship. 
I am not going back to Spain, you know.” 

“ But the captain is going back,” said Pepita. 
“ He would take care of me. Every one on the 
ship is kind to me, and they like Abdul, too.” 

“ Well, every one on land will be kind as well,” 
Mrs. Pool assured her cheerfully. “ Why, your 
papa is probably just crazy to see you, and so is your 
auntie. As for Abdul, he’s so cunning and so well- 
behaved, I don’t see how anybody could help liking 
him. Come now, get up and dress. It’s early, I 
know, only a little after six, but I want to get home 
as soon as I can, and I’ve got to take you all the way 
to your aunt’s in Portsmouth, before I can go to my 
own family in Salem.” 

“Aunt Dolores thought my American aunt would 
come to the ship,” said Pepita, as she began slowly 
putting on her stockings. 

“ Probably she would if it were later in the day, 
but she’s hardly likely to come in to Boston so early 
in the morning. Anyway, my husband sent her a 
wireless last night, telling her not to worry, and that 
I would bring you to Portsmouth myself.” 

“ Is my American aunt a kind lady? ” Pepita in¬ 
quired anxiously. 

Mrs. Pool nodded. 

“ Sure to be,” she said. “ I’ve never seen her 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 87 

myself, but the captain has, and he says she’s all 
right. He says your papa is one of the handsomest 
men he’s ever seen, and a tremendous favorite with 
every one. Don’t you remember your papa at all, 
dear? ” 

“ I remember him a little,” said Pepita. “ He 
had a loud voice, and made funny mistakes in Span¬ 
ish. I should think my mamma would have been 
ashamed to have him talk in that funny way ? ” 

“ Oh, my dear,” remonstrated Mrs. Pool, “ you 
mustn’t speak like that about your own papa. Little 
girls should always love their parents, no matter 
what they do.” 

“ Not when they do not know them,” Pepita 
maintained, her lip beginning to quiver. “ I love 
Aunt Dolores and Uncle Miguel, but I do not know 
my father. I was only seven when he came to Se¬ 
ville.” 

“Yes, dear, I know. He has been away on a 
long cruise and couldn’t come to see you, but surely 
you have had letters from him.” 

“ Oh, yes, I had to write to him every three 
months, but I never knew what to say, so Aunt 
Dolores wrote the letters and I copied them. After 
Mrs. O’Dowd came I had to write in English, so she 
wrote the letters instead of Aunt Dolores. My 
father always sends money for Christmas and for 
my birthday, but the writing in his letters is so hard 
to read, that we can never understand much of what 


88 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


he says. I did not care; I was quite happy with 
Aunt Dolores and Uncle Miguel. Oh, Mrs. Pool, I 
do not want to stay in America. I want to go back 
to Seville.” 

“ Now, dearie,” began Mrs. Pool reprovingly. 
“ You are not going to begin fretting again, after 
being such a good child for a whole week. Remem¬ 
ber what you promised your aunt that day in Gi¬ 
braltar.” 

Pepita swallowed a rising sob, and sprang out of 
bed. 

“ I promised her not to cry any more than I could 
help,” she said. “We had both cried so much in 
Seville that we were ill. I did not mind the ship as 
much as I expected, but I shall detest the land.” 

“ Oh, no, you won’t; just wait and see. Now I’m 
going to my cabin for a few minutes, to get my 
things together, and when I come back you must be 
ready for breakfast. You’ll want to be on deck in 
time to see Boston Harbor. Will you hurry, like a 
good girl? You know you are rather slow.” 

“ I am not so slow as Ines,” Pepita objected. “ I 
think Americans are always in a hurry.” 

Mrs, Pool laughed and departed, and Pepita be¬ 
gan her toilet. Mrs. O’Dowd, who believed in chil¬ 
dren making themselves useful, had taught her pupil 
to do many things for herself, of which Ines was 
still profoundly ignorant. Ines was still washed and 
dressed by a maid, although she was nearly eleven, 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 


89 


but Pepita had performed her own morning toilet 
for more than a year, and, much to Ines’s surprise, 
really professed to enjoy her bath, a ceremony which 
the little Spanish girl regarded as a most distasteful, 
not to say unnecessary, function. 

Altogether, those days on the ship had been much 
pleasanter than Pepita had anticipated. She had 
not been at all seasick, every one had been exceed¬ 
ingly kind to her, and, indeed, she and Abdul had 
been the pets of the voyage. There were only a 
few passengers on board at that season of the year, 
and all were interested in the little girl and her 
monkey. Pepita was in the care of Captain Pool 
and his pretty young wife, and, being a friendly 
child and not at all shy, she had soon grown accus¬ 
tomed to her new surroundings, and, except for the 
homesick nights, when she cried unrestrainedly for 
home and Aunt Dolores, she had really not been 
unhappy. But now the voyage was over, and in a 
few hours she was to meet the aunt of whose very 
existence she had been ignorant a month before. 
Her heart beat fast and her hands shook nervously 
as she dressed, but she made good progress, never¬ 
theless, and was nearly ready by the time Mrs. Pool 
returned, much to that lady’s satisfaction. 

“ That’s right,” she commented approvingly; 
“ you’ve done very well this time. Just sit down a 
minute and let me brush out your hair. You must 
look as well as possible when you see your aunt for 


90 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


the first time. There, that looks much better. Now 
suppose you run and get your breakfast while I pack 
your things. I’ve had mine already, but I don’t 
think the captain has finished yet.” 

“ May I take Abdul?” 

“ Oh, yes, I suppose so. Nobody seems to mind 
him, but you mustn’t be surprised if your aunt ob¬ 
jects to having a monkey brought to the table.” 

At the sound of his name, Abdul, who had been 
asleep in his basket under the berth, lifted his head 
with a little squeak and sprang lightly to Pepita’s 
shoulder. 

“ I believe he understands every word we say,” 
declared Mrs. Pool admiringly. “ I never thought 
I should get fond of a monkey, but I shall be really 
sorry to part with this one.” 

“ He is my beautiful pet,” said Pepita, stroking 
the monkey’s head with loving fingers. “ Now, 
Abdul,” she added, relapsing into Spanish, as she 
ahvays did when addressing the little animal, “ you 
must not muss my hair. Mrs. Pool says I must be 
neat when I meet my aunt.” 

Three minutes later Pepita had made her way to 
the long dining-saloon, and was taking her place at 
the captain’s table, Abdul still perched on her shoul¬ 
der. Most of the passengers had already break¬ 
fasted, but the few who still remained looked up with 
a smile for the pretty child and her constant com¬ 
panion. During the voyage Abdul had become al- 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 91 

most as much of a favorite as Pepita herself, and it 
had not occurred to any one to object to the presence 
of a monkey in the dining-saloon. The captain, a 
kindly, pleasant-faced man, who was just finishing 
his own breakfast, greeted his little charge with a 
friendly smile. 

“ Well, little lady,” he remarked pleasantly, as 
Pepita slipped into her accustomed seat, “ your voy¬ 
age is almost over. Will you be glad to go on 
shore? ” 

“ I shall not be at all glad,” Pepita assured him 
gravely. “ I should much prefer to go back on the 
ship to Gibraltar, but Mrs. Pool says you would not 
take me.” 

The captain shook his head. 

“ Pm afraid it couldn’t be done,” he said. “ Not 
that I wouldn’t be glad to have you on board for 
another trip, for you’ve been a famous little traveller 
and so has Abdul. Top of the morning to you, 
Abdul; shake hands.” 

The monkey promptly held out a mite of a hand, 
which the captain shook heartily, and just then a 
steward appeared to take Pepita’s breakfast order. 

“ I will have fried eggs and chocolate,” the little 
girl announced j “ and Abdul will have bread and 
milk, as usual.” 

The steward smiled, as he hurried away to fill the 
order, and the captain also smiled, as he rose from 
the table. 


92 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ You remind me of your father, Pepita,” he said; 
“ you both always know what you want. There’s 
no shilly-shallying about either of you! ” 

“ What is sheely-shallying ? ” inquired Pepita, 
pronouncing the new word very slowly and dis¬ 
tinctly. 

“ Nonsense,” answered the captain, laughing. 

“ I think there are some very strange words in 
English,” Pepita remarked to Abdul, leaning back 
in her seat, and calmly scratching the monkey’s ear. 
“ I am afraid I shall never learn them all, and if I 
make mistakes my father will be angry with Aunt 
Dolores for not having me taught. I must remem¬ 
ber ‘ sheely-shally ’; that means nonsense, and non¬ 
sense means foolishness.” 

The return of the steward with breakfast caused 
a diversion in Pepita’s thoughts, and the next few 
minutes were very interesting, not only to Pepita 
and the steward, but to the remaining passengers as 
well. A napkin was tied about the monkey’s neck, 
a bowl of warm milk and bread placed before him, 
and Abdul proceeded to feed himself with a spoon, 
eating with as much care as many human beings, 
and more daintiness. 

“You ought to exhibit that monkey,” one gentle¬ 
man remarked to Pepita; “ he would make your 
fortune.” 

“ I do not need a fortune, thank you,” Pepita an¬ 
swered politely, at which everybody laughed, and 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 


93 


the man who had spoken to her remarked that she 
was a “ funny little kid.” 

“A kid is a young goat,” said Pepita, flushing 
indignantly. “ I am not a young goat; I am a little 
girl.” 

“ I beg your pardon,” the gentleman apologized; 
“ no offense intended, I am sure.” And he went 
away, laughing. 

“ I think Americans are very rude people,” said 
Pepita to Abdul, but as she spoke in Spanish nobody 
understood her, and just then Mrs. Pool came to 
tell her to hurry on deck, as they were entering Bos¬ 
ton Harbor. 

“ You’ll like to see the harbor, I’m sure,” she ex¬ 
plained, but Pepita did not look particularly inter¬ 
ested. She followed Mrs. Pool on deck, however, 
and the hour that followed was certainly an inter¬ 
esting one,—the harbor, the big, noisy city, and 
finally the train in which they were being rapidly 
whirled away towards Pepita’s new home. Pepita 
had often been in trains before, but never one like 
this. 

“ Why do we not have a compartment to our¬ 
selves ? ” she inquired, with a rather disgusted glance 
about the hot, crowded car. “ Is not this a third- 
class carriage ? ” 

Mrs. Pool laughed. 

“ I’m afraid it’s the only class there is on this 
train,” she said. “ Our cars are not like yours. 


94 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


We only have compartments on the Pullmans. 
Don’t you like to look at the people? ” 

“ No,” said Pepita frankly; “ they are not at all 
interesting. It is very hot, too. I thought Amer¬ 
ica was a cold country.” 

“ It’s cold enough in winter,” Mrs. Pool ex¬ 
plained, “ but this is August, you know. It’s a 
pretty hot morning, but perhaps we shall have a sea 
breeze when we get to Portsmouth.” 

“ What does that boy sell? ” inquired Pepita, in a 
tone of languid interest. 

“Pop-corn. Would you like some?” 

“ I do not know. What is pop-corn ? ” 

For answer Mrs. Pool beckoned the vender to her 
side, and, having purchased a bag of the sticky pop- 

4 

corn balls, presented one to Pepita. 

“ Try it,” she said. 

Pepita accepted the offering, nibbled a morsel, 
and then laid the rest on the window-sill beside 
her. 

“ I do not like the taste,” she said decidedly. 

“ Well, you are a funny child,” declared Mrs. 
Pool. “ I thought all children loved pop-corn. It 
was the same way about the maple syrup on the 
ship. But never mind; you’ll get used to American 
food before long, and then you’ll love it.” 

“ I shall never love pop-corn or maple syrup,” said 
Pepita, with conviction, and Mrs. Pool, being a sen¬ 
sible woman, did not continue the subject. 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 95 

It was twelve o’clock when the train reached 
Portsmouth, and the noon whistles were blowing as 
they left the station and stepped out into the hot, 
sunny street. There were a few taxicabs about, 
one of which Mrs. Pool secured, and they were soon 
rattling away through the quaint old town. It was 
still very warm, and Pepita looked in vain for the 
water-seller so familiar in the streets of Seville on 
hot days. There were not many people to be seen, 
and the place struck her as very quiet and not partic¬ 
ularly interesting. 

“ A beautiful old town, isn’t it? 99 remarked Mrs. 
Pool, as the cab turned into a wide, shady street, 
lined on both sides with substantial-looking houses. 

“ I do not think it is beautiful,” said Pepita, with 
characteristic frankness. “ Why are there no 
walls? I should not think people would like to 
have strangers look into their gardens.” 

Mrs. Pool laughed. 

“Americans are not so exclusive as you Span¬ 
iards,” she explained. “ We don’t like to be walled 
in as if we were in prison.” 

Pepita had never heard the word “exclusive,” but 
she did not like Mrs. Pool’s tone and flushed indig¬ 
nantly. But before she could reply, the cab drew 
up before one of the old-fashioned colonial houses, 
and the driver sprang down from his seat, and ran 
up the steps to ring the door-bell. Pepita’s heart 
gave a big jump, and her hands and feet felt sud- 


96 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


dcnly cold. She gave a little gasp, and caught 
nervously at Mrs. Pool’s dress. 

“ Is this my aunt’s home? ” she inquired almost 
in a whisper. 

“ To be sure it is,” the captain’s wife assured her 
cheerfully. “ You can carry Abdul’s basket, and 
I’ll bring the suit-cases. What makes you shake 
so, child? Surely you are not afraid of anything.” 

“ I—I do not know,” faltered poor little Pepita. 
“ I did not think I should be afraid. Oh, dear Mrs. 
Pool, please, please take me back to the ship.” 

But Mrs. Pool was already out of the cab, and 
halfway up the broad flight of steps, and there was 
nothing for Pepita to do but follow her. By the 
time she reached the top of the steps, the front door 
had already been opened by a young woman in a 
white cap and apron, who struck Pepita as being 
about the neatest person she had ever seen. 

“ Is Miss Hawthorn at home?” Mrs. Pool in¬ 
quired, glancing past the maid into the wide, cool 
hall, as if in search of some one else. 

“ No, ma’am,” the maid answered, “ she isn’t in 
yet, but she will be pretty soon. It’s Saturday 
morning, and Miss Hawthorn always goes to the 
church sewing-society on Saturdays from ten to 
twelve. She left word she was to be telephoned for 
if any message came from the steamer, but it’s 
hardly worth while to telephone now, for it’s 
quarter-past twelve, and she’ll be on her way home 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 97 

anyway. This is the little girl from Spain, I sup¬ 
pose.” And the maid turned from Mrs. Pool to 
Pepita, whom she regarded with considerable in¬ 
terest. 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Pool, who was beginning to 
look a little troubled. “ Pepita, dear,” she added 
coaxingly, “ would you mind very much if I left 
you? I’m sorry not to wait and see your aunt, but 
I'm terribly anxious to catch the twelve-forty train 
back to Salem, and there's only just time to get to 
the station.” 

Pepita did mind very much indeed, but she was a 
good little soul, on the whole, and she knew how 
anxious Mrs. Pool was to see her mother in Salem, 
from whom she had been parted for months. She 
also remembered how kind the captain's wife had 
been to her during the voyage, so she choked down 
a rising sob and tried to smile. It was a rather 
poor attempt at a smile, but Mrs. Pool was in too 
much of a hurry to notice that fact, and all she said 
was: “ That’s all right, then. Tell your aunt I was 
terribly sorry not to see her, but I knew my mother 
was just counting the minutes till I got home. You 
can tell your aunt you’ve been the best little travel¬ 
ling companion any one could possibly have.” 

In another moment Mrs. Pool had kissed Pepita, 
and was hurrying down the steps and into the wait¬ 
ing cab. Pepita stood still, watching the cab until 
it had disappeared from sight. She felt very much 


9 S 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


as if this were all a part of a strange dream, but the 
voice of the maid aroused her to present realities. 

“ Come inside,” she said pleasantly. “ You can 
wait in the parlor for your aunt, or I’ll take you up 
to your room, just which you like best. Miss 
Hawthorn didn’t think the steamer would be in be¬ 
fore this afternoon, but your room has been ready 
for a week. Let me take that basket.” 

Pepita’s hand tightened on the handle of Abdul’s 
basket. 

“ I will carry it myself, thank you,” she said, in a 
tone of so much decision that the maid looked at 
her more curiously than ever. 

“ Well, you know what you want, all right,” she 
said good-naturedly. “ Now suppose we go up¬ 
stairs. You’ll want to wash your face and hands 
before dinner; it’s so hot and dusty in those trains.” 

Pepita making no objection, the woman led the 
way up a wide staircase to a room on the second 
floor, which she informed the little girl was to be 
her own. The room was very large and very neat. 
There was a big bed in it and a bureau and a table 
covered with a white embroidered cloth. The bed 
was also covered with a white embroidered spread, 
and there were fluted pillow-shams besides. All 
the furniture stood close against the wall, and every¬ 
thing was so spotlessly clean that Pepita was almost 
afraid to lay her dusty straw hat anywhere for fear 
of leaving a spot. The maid evidently noticed her 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 


99 


embarrassment, for she hastened to throw open the 
door of a closet, in which there were a number of 
shelves, as well as rows of hooks. 

“You may put your things in there,” she said; 
“ but you’d better go to the bath-room to wash your 
face. This room was all done over last year, and 
Miss Hawthorn is very particular about not having 
water spilled or splashed on the wall-paper.” 

So, having removed her dusty hat and placed 
Abdul’s basket on the floor, Pepita followed her 
new acquaintance across the hall to the bath-room, 
which was so clean that the porcelain tub fairly 
shone. 

“ It does not look as if people ever washed here,” 
the little girl reflected, as she helped herself to one 
of the neatly folded towels. “ I never saw such a 
clean place before.” 

Her reflections were cut short by the maid, who 
still lingered in the doorway. 

“ I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you,” she said; 
“ it’s time to set the table. Dinner’s at one pre¬ 
cisely, and Miss Hawthorn isn’t pleased if it’s a 
minute late. There’s the bell now; I guess it’s your 
aunt.” And the maid hurried away, leaving 
Pepita standing in the middle of the bath-room floor 
with the folded towel still in her hand. 

There was a sound of distant voices, followed by 
a quickly approaching footstep, and a little lady in 
a black dress and an old-fashioned straw bonnet 


100 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


came hurrying up the stairs, exclaiming in a tone 
of genuine distress: “ Where is she? In the bath¬ 
room, did you say, Maggie? Oh, my dear child, 
I am so very sorry not to have been here to receive 
you. I had no idea you would arrive so soon.” 

The next moment the prim little lady had her 
arms round Pepita, and was kissing her, apparently 
quite oblivious of the fact that her grimy little face 
was still unwashed. 

Pepita submitted to her aunt’s embrace, although 
she was not fond of being kissed by people she did 
not know, and Miss Hawthorn went on talking in 
a rather breathless voice, and without waiting for 
any replies to her questions. 

“ I telephoned Mr. Lewis this morning, and he 
said he was sure the ship wouldn’t dock before 
noon, and I thought Captain Pool would telephone 
from Boston. I wouldn’t have been out when you 
arrived for the world, but I never expected you so 
early, and it did seem foolish to give up my meeting 
for nothing. Couldn’t Mrs. Pool wait to see me? 
I should have liked to have had her stay to dinner. 
It was very good of her to take charge of you, and 
I wanted to thank her. Did you have a pleasant 
voyage? I hope you were not seasick. Now let 
me have a good look at you, dear. Yes, you are 
like your father, very like him.” 

“ I think I am like my mamma,” said Pepita 
flushing. 


PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE IOI 

“ Well, I dare say you are, but you are a Haw¬ 
thorn, too. Now suppose you finish washing while 
I take off my hat. Dinner will be ready in fifteen 
minutes.” 

Miss Hawthorn was so evidently nervous that 
Pepita gazed at her in growing astonishment. She 
was unlike any one the little girl had ever seen be¬ 
fore. From under the bonnet there protruded a 
row of little curls, and all the time she was talking 
the curls kept bobbing, and her eyes kept wandering 
from one object to another. They were such very 
keen, bright eyes, too, that Pepita felt as if they 
must look right through her. But the eyes were 
kind, and so was the voice, and all at once Pepita 
was no longer frightened, only puzzled and rather 
interested. 

Miss Hawthorn hurried away, and Pepita washed 
her face and hands, and then went back to her 
room, where she smoothed her tumbled hair with 
the white ivory brush she found on the bureau. 
She was rather proud of her capabilities, and could 
not help wondering what Ines would have done 
under the circumstances. Ines had never brushed 
her own hair in her life. By the time she was 
ready, Miss Hawthorn returned. She had re¬ 
moved her bonnet, and Pepita thought she looked 
neater and primmer than ever, with the curls 
smoothed down, and not a crease in her stiff black 
dress. 


102 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ You haven’t unpacked your suit-case yet, have 
you?” she remarked, with a swift glance around 
the room. “ We’ll come up together after dinner 
and I’ll help you. Perhaps your trunk will be here 
by that time. Why, what have you in that 
basket?” 

“ Abdul,” said Pepita. “ I think he is asleep, 
but I will show him to you.” 

“ Abdul,” repeated Miss Hawthorn, her face 
clouding. “Oh, my dear, is he a kitten? I am 
sorry you have brought a cat, for I dislike them 
very much.” 

Pepita smiled for the first time since her arrival, 
and her aunt suddenly realized the fact that she was 
pretty. 

“ I do not like cats either,” she said; “ they are 
stupid animals. Abdul is my monkey.” 

“Your—your monkey?” gasped Miss Haw¬ 
thorn, starting back in horror. “Not a live 
monkey? ” 

Pepita laughed triumphantly, and proceeded to 
lift the cover from Abdul’s basket. There was a 
joyful squeak, and the monkey sprang to his mis¬ 
tress’ shoulder where he perched contentedly, sur¬ 
veying his new surroundings. 

“ Mercy,” cried Miss Hawthorn, retreating to¬ 
wards the door. “ Oh, Pepita, he will bite, I am 
sure he will. Put him back in the basket at once, 
and fasten down the cover.” 



Pepita laughed triumphantly, and proceeded to lift the cover 
from Abdul’s Basket.— Page 102. 






































% 











PORTSMOUTH AND AUNT JANE 103 

“ He will not bite,” Pepita reassured her; “ he 
is very gentle. He will shake hands with you.” 

She approached her aunt as she spoke, but with 
a shriek that lady retreated behind the door. 

“ But I don’t want him to shake hands with me,” 
she protested. “ I wouldn’t touch the creature for 
the world. Oh, Pepita, dear, please put him back in 
the basket.” 

“ But he is hungry,” protested Pepita; “ he will 
not go back until he has his dinner. May he eat 
with us? He is very good at the table, and he 
always had dinner with us on the ship.” 

Poor Miss Hawthorn was almost too horrified 
to speak. She was really glad to welcome her 
brother’s little girl, and wanted Pepita to be happy 
in her new home, but a monkey at the dinner-table! 
Had such a thing ever been heard of? It was no 
wonder that Mrs. Lewis considered the child 
was being brought up in an extraordinary man¬ 
ner. 

“ I couldn’t possibly allow such a thing, Pepita,” 
she said, trying to speak kindly, though her voice 
was shaking with nervousness. “ Put the monkey 
back in the basket at once, and I will call James to 
take him out to the barn. James has lived with me 
for many years and is a very kind man. He will 
take good care of your pet, and after dinner you 
may go out to the bam yourself, and bring him 
some food.” 


104 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ What is a barn? ” inquired Pepita suspiciously. 
She had never heard the word before. 

“ A bam? Why, it’s a—a stable; a place where 
horses are kept, you know. I have no horse now. 
I sold my old Kitty last spring because she was so 
afraid of automobiles, but I have kept James on to 
attend to the place. Now, Pepita, please don’t say 
another word. I am going to call James.” 

And Pepita, who had been taught to obey her 
elders, much as she might dislike their requests, in¬ 
stinctively obeyed this new aunt and put the re¬ 
luctant Abdul back in his basket. 


CHAPTER VI 


pepita’s new home 

P EPITA was very angry. She was quite 
sure she was not going to like this new aunt 
at all. Surely Aunt Dolores, with her strict 
idea of hospitality, would never have turned a 
person’s monkey out-of-doors. The more she 
thought of this indignity to her pet, the angrier she 
became. She had thought that she was hungry, but 
now that she found herself sitting opposite to her 
aunt at the dinner-table, on which the silver shone 
as she had never before seen knives and forks shine, 
she really found some difficulty in swallowing the 
food set before her. In silence she had watched 
the smiling James bear away Abdul to regions un¬ 
known, and observed the look of relief on her 
aunt’s face as the door closed behind them. It was 
all very strange and disagreeable, and more than 
ever she wished herself back on the ship with the 
kind captain and his wife. Maggie, in her snowy 
cap and apron, waited on the table, being the only 
other person present besides Pepita and her aunt. 

Miss Hawthorn talked a great deal, and seemed 
anxious to have her little niece feel at home, but she 

io 5 


106 PUZZLING PEPITA 

spoke so fast and used so many unfamiliar words 
that Pepita—although she had improved consider¬ 
ably in her English during the voyage—found a 
good deal of difficulty in understanding her. 

“ Do take some more rice with your chicken, 
dear,” Miss Hawthorn urged hospitably. “ I 
should think you would be hungry after your 
journey. You must have had breakfast very early 
in order to catch that train from Boston.” 

“ I am not hungry,” said Pepita slowly. “ I was 
hungry when I came, but Pm not now.” 

“ Perhaps you are still feeling the motion of the 
ship. Were you very seasick? ” 

“ I was not seasick at all,” replied Pepita, and 
relapsed into silence again. Miss Hawthorn made 
another effort at conversation. 

“ I must send your father a telegram this after¬ 
noon. He will be so relieved to hear you have 
arrived safely.” 

“ Did my father think I would not arrive 
safely?” Pepita inquired, looking up from her 
plate with sudden interest. 

“Oh, no, dear; of course not, only—well, 
people always like to hear when their friends have 
arrived after a long journey. Your father is in 
California, you know, but he expects to be at home 
before Christmas.” 

Miss Hawthorn seemed to expect that this news 
would give Pepita pleasure, but the child’s face did 


PEPITA'S NEW HOME 


IQ/ 


not brighten. Truth to tell, she was still finding 
some difficulty in keeping back the rising tears. At 
that moment the marble clock on the mantelpiece 
struck half-past one, and Miss Hawthorn seemed to 
forget all about Pepita, and, turning to Maggie, she 
remarked in a tone of sudden anxiety, “ That clock 
is at least three minutes fast. It must need reg¬ 
ulating.” 

“ It was right yesterday, by the noon whistle,” 
said the maid. 

“ Well, it must have gained since then, for I set 
my watch by the whistle to-day, and it is only just 
twenty-seven minutes past now.” And Miss Haw¬ 
thorn frowned as she glanced from the clock to her 
watch. 

Maggie looked sympathetic and murmured some¬ 
thing about the whistle sometimes being a minute 
too early, and Pepita wondered what possible dif¬ 
ference a clock’s being three minutes fast or slow 
could make. It was comparatively seldom that two 
clocks at home were alike. She was soon to learn 
that accuracy as to time was only one of her aunt’s 
peculiarities. Since the death of her parents, and 
the departure of her only brother for foreign lands, 
Jane Hawthorn had lived in the old house where 
she was born, and although a good, conscientious 
woman, really loved and admired by her many 
friends, she had settled down into a rather prim 
spinster, whose house ran like clockwork, and to 


108 PUZZLING PE PITA 

whom change of any kind was a thing to be dreaded 
and avoided at all costs. Pepita’s coming was 
bound to bring some changes, she told herself re¬ 
gretfully; but Pepita was Dick’s little girl, and if, 
as her friend Mrs. Lewis assured her, the child was 
not receiving the proper training, it was manifestly 
her duty to send for her and train her up in the 
way she should go, before her father came home to 
claim her. And, whatever her faults, Jane Haw¬ 
thorn never shirked a duty. 

“And now, what would you like to do?” Aunt 
Jane inquired, as they rose from the dinner-table. 
“ Perhaps you would enjoy going over the house. 
It is a very old house, you know; your father and I 
were both born here.” 

“ My grandpapa was born in our house in Se¬ 
ville,” said Pepita. “ This house does not look as old 
as the houses at home. I’d like to take Abdul his 
dinner.” 

“ Oh, to be sure, dear; I had forgotten the mon¬ 
key. What does he eat?” 

Miss Hawthorn spoke kindly, and in the interest 
of preparing Abdul’s meal Pepita’s spirits rose. 
Her aunt even accompanied her as far as the barn¬ 
door, where they were joined by James, who as¬ 
sured Pepita that the monkey was “ a real cute 
little feller, and as smart as a steel trap.” Pepita 
did not understand the expression, but James’ tone 
convinced her that he meant to be complimentary, 


PE PITA’S NEW HOME 109 

and she smiled so brightly that Miss Hawthorn re¬ 
turned to the house with a somewhat lightened 
heart. 

“ I like you,” remarked Pepita, the moment she 
and James were alone; “you talk like Mrs. 
O’Dowd.” 

“ Well now, that’s fine,” said James good- 
naturedly. “ I don’t know Mrs. O’Dowd, but it’s 
a good Irish name, and I’m proud to talk like her.” 

“She was my governess,” Pepita explained; 
“ she learned me English.” 

At sight of his mistress Abdul uttered a joyful 
squeak, and sprang, as usual, to her shoulder. 
Something in the familiar action brought the long- 
restrained tears to Pepita’s eyes, and she suddenly 
began to cry. She hugged the little creature close, 
murmuring tender words to him in the language 
they both knew best. James looked on, an expres¬ 
sion of sympathetic interest on his honest face. 

“ There, there, I wouldn’t cry if I was you,” he 
advised soothingly. “ See, the little feller’s real 
hungry for his dinner. Is that Spanish you’re 
talkin’ to him ? ” 

“Yes,” said Pepita, choking back a sob. “It is 
our language; Abdul does not understand the Eng- 
leesh.” 

“ Doesn’t he, now? Well, don’t you worry; he’ll 
learn it soon enough.” 

“ I do not wish him to learn it; I do not like it,” 


no 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


cried Pepita, in a sudden burst of irritation, and she 
stamped her little foot impatiently as she spoke. 

James laughed. 

“ Well, you know what you like, which is more 
than some folks do,” he said; and Pepita remem¬ 
bered that Captain Pool had said almost those very 
words to her, and had added that she was like her 
father. For the first time Pepita was conscious of 
a desire to hear something more about this unknown 
father, whom she was supposed to resemble. 

“Do you know my father?” she inquired 
abruptly, turning to James. 

“ Sure I do. I know the captain well, though 
it’s many a day since we’ve had a sight of him. A 
fine young gentleman he is, and no mistake, and 
you’ve got something of the look of him yourself.” 

“Is he a young gentleman?” Pepita asked in 
surprise. Her aunt had not struck her as being at 
all young. 

“ That he is. I’ve known the captain since he 
was a boy ”—he pronounced it “ bye ”—“ and a 
mischievous little scamp he was, too, but that good- 
natured you couldn’t be mad with him to save your 
life. I’ll tell you some funny stories about the cap¬ 
tain some day. He did worry poor Miss Jane most 
out of her mind, with his pranks. She’s a lot 
older than him, you know,—fifteen years, I think it 
is; and after Mrs. Hawthorn died she brought him 
up as if she’d been his mother. Your grandpa was 


PE PITA'S NEW HOME 


III 


a fine man, too, God rest his soul, but he’s gone 
now, and Miss J ane and the captain is the only ones 
left in the family. Now let’s give the monkey his 
dinner, or he’ll be gettin’ mad with us for keepin’ 
him waitin’/’ 

When Abdul had been fed, and put through some 
of his tricks, greatly to the admiration of James, 
Pepita went reluctantly back to the house where she 
found her aunt impatiently awaiting her in the 
front hall. 

“ Your trunk has come, Pepita,” she began at 
once. “ Suppose we go up-stairs and unpack.” 

“Do we not take the siesta first?” inquired 
Pepita, who was beginning to feel rather tired. 

“ Take what, dear? ” 

“ The siesta, the afternoon sleep,” Pepita ex¬ 
plained. 

Miss Hawthorn looked both puzzled and dis¬ 
tressed. 

“ Why, my dear child,” she said kindly, “ don’t 
you feel well? I never heard of a little girl want¬ 
ing to go to sleep in the daytime unless she were 
ill. Does your head ache? I hope your throat 
isn’t sore ? ” 

“ I am quite well,” Pepita assured her, “ but in 
Seville every one takes a siesta after luncheon. I 
will unpack my trunk first if you wish.” 

Miss Hawthorn looked much relieved. 

“ 1 really think it would be best, dear,” she said, 


112 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ that is, unless you are too tired. Then James can 
carry the trunk up to the attic when he comes in for 
his tea. I never like to have trunks standing about 
over night.” 

That unpacking was the most extraordinary per¬ 
formance Pepita had ever witnessed, much less as¬ 
sisted in. At home when trunks were unpacked 
their contents were thrown into bureau drawers or 
piled on closet-shelves, and that was the end of it; 
but this strange new aunt appeared to consider the 
finding of a particular place for each separate 
article a question of vital importance. 

“ Keep your boots on this lower shelf, dear,” she 
directed. “ Then you won’t kick them about when 
you are in the closet hanging up your dresses. This 
is your best hat, I suppose. Now where shall we 
put that? I am afraid the top shelf is rather too 
high for you to reach. Suppose you keep it in this 
lower drawer. There, that will do nicely. Now 
let us decide about these underclothes.” 

By the time the unpacking was finished Pepita 
was really very tired, and, without waiting for 
further directions, she calmly threw herself on the 
bed. 

“ Oh, my dear,” remonstrated Aunt Jane, “ the 
pillow-shams, and the clean white spread. Never 
lie down on a bed with your boots on. You may 
rest as long as you like, dear, but just let me take 
off the shams and the spread first.” 


PEPITA'S NEW HOME 


Pepita sprang to her feet feeling rather ashamed, 
and still more puzzled. Never had Aunt Dolores 
made such a singular request. She was convinced, 
however, that Miss Hawthorn meant to be kind, 
for, having removed her beloved shams to a place 
of safety, she made Pepita lie down again, and gave 
her a kiss. 

“ I hope you are going to be happy with me till 
your father comes home,” she said. 

The tears started to Pepita’s eyes. 

“ I did not wish to come to America,” she said 
tremulously; “ America killed my mamma.” 

Miss Hawthorn looked very much shocked. 

“ Oh, no, my dear, you must not say that,” she 
protested, clasping her hands nervously. “ Your 
dear mother was very ill for a long time, but it was 
not America that made her so. Your father took 
her to California, and everything was done for her 
that possibly could be. What made you think such 
a dreadful thing? ” 

“ Grandmamma said so,” said Pepita; “ she told 
me before she died. She said America was a cold, 
cruel country, but it is not cold to-day, it is very 
warm. I will try to remember about those things 
on the bed, but now I think I will go to sleep.” 

“ Poor child,” Miss Hawthorn said to herself, as 
she left the room. “ I suppose it is only natural. 
Those dreadful Spaniards have probably put all 
sorts of queer ideas into her head. Oh, why 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


114 

couldn’t Dick have married some nice American 
girl instead of that poor, delicate Amalita? I will 
call up Mrs. Flemming and ask her to send Agnes 
over later. It will cheer the child up to see some one 
of her own age.” 

It was after four when Pepita awoke from her 
nap, feeling much refreshed and rather hungry. 
Slipping down off the bed, she hurried away down¬ 
stairs, without waiting to smooth her tumbled hair. 
Guided by the sound of voices, she made her way 
to the front parlor, where she found her aunt in 
conversation with another lady and a little girl of 
about her own age. She herself had evidently been 
the subject of conversation, for, as she entered the 
room, Miss Hawthorn exclaimed: “ Ah, here she 
is now. Come in, Pepita. I want you to meet my 
friend Mrs. Flemming and her little daughter 
Agnes. Mrs. Flemming is our dear minister’s 
wife, and we hope that you and Agnes will be good 
friends.” 

Pepita advanced and curtsied, glancing as she did 
so, not without considerable interest, from one 
visitor to the other. Mrs. Flemming was a stout 
lady with a rather stern expression of countenance, 
although at the moment she was smiling serenely. 
Agnes was tall for her age, and greeted Pepita with 
a decidedly grown-up manner. Her expression was 
not unlike her mother’s. 

“How do you do, dear?” said Mrs. Flemming, 


PE PITA'S NEW HOME 


115 

holding out a fat hand. “ I am glad you have 
arrived safely; your aunt has been so anxious about 
you. I hope you were not very seasick.” 

“ I was not sick, thank you,” answered Pepita. 
“ I loved the ship. I would like to go back to 
Spain with Captain Pool.” 

“ Oh, my dear, you mustn’t say that,” remon¬ 
strated Mrs. Flemming. “ It isn’t kind, when your 
aunt has been so anxious to see you.” 

“Was my aunt anxious to see me?” inquired 
Pepita, looking very much surprised. But before 
Mrs. Flemming could reply, Miss Hawthorn broke 
into the conversation rather hurriedly. 

“ Suppose you take Agnes out on the side piazza,” 
she said nervously. “ It’s nice and shady there 
now, and you can have a little talk together. Chil¬ 
dren always get on better by themselves, you 
know,” she added in a low tone, as the two little 
girls left the room. “ She is a dear child, but she 
seems a little strange just at first. I suppose 
foreign children are differently brought up from 
ours. Why, would you believe it, my dear, she 
actually brought a live monkey with her and ex¬ 
pected to keep it in the house. She even asked 
me if she might bring the creature to the dinner- 
table ! ” 

“ Of course you forbade it,” said Mrs. Flem¬ 
ming. 

“ Oh, certainly; but you should have seen the 


116 PUZZLING PEP IT A 

child’s face when James carried the horrible little 
animal out to the barn. She looked as if she were 
being deprived of her one earthly possession. It 
fairly made my heart ache.” 

“ Mary Lewis gave us an idea what to expect,” 
Mrs. Flemming said with a sigh. “ You must 
be firm with the child; it is the only way to train 
her.” 

Pepita and Agnes had by this time made their 
way out through the open French window to the 
screened side piazza. To Pepita the piazza seemed 
anything but cool on that broiling afternoon, and 
she thought longingly of the inner court in Seville, 
with its splashing fountain filled with goldfish; but 
Agnes was evidently quite satisfied, for she seated 
herself in one of the rocking-chairs of which there 
were several on the piazza, and Pepita, seeing noth¬ 
ing else to do, followed her example. 

‘‘Do you speak Spanish?” was Pepita’s first 
anxious question. 

Agnes was forced to admit that she did not. 

“I speak French, though,” she added; “I took 
the French prize in school last year.” 

Pepita looked much relieved. 

“ I am so glad,” she said, lapsing at once into her 
pretty, fluent French. “ I speak French much bet¬ 
ter than English ; the English is so difficult.” 

She paused, struck by the blank expression on her 
companion’s face. 


PEPITA'S NEW HOME 


II 7 


44 Don’t talk so fast,” complained Agnes. “ I 
can’t understand French when people speak it so 
fast. Can’t you say it slower ? ” 

44 I will try,” said Pepita politely. “ I do not 
always understand the English when people speak 
it very fast. I understand James better than I do 
my aunt. Do you know James? ” 

But Agnes still looked blank. 

“ I guess we may as well talk English,” she said. 
“Of course I love French; it’s awfully interesting, 
you know, and I really do speak it very well,— 
Mademoiselle says so; but it’s so hot this afternoon 
I don’t feel like working my brain.” 

It was Pepita’s turn to look mystified. 

44 I do not quite understand what you mean,” she 
said, “ but we will speak English if you prefer. 
What shall we speak about ? ” 

Agnes laughed. 

“ I don’t know, I’m sure,” she said. “ Are you 
fond of books? ” 

44 Do you mean do I like to read books ? ” 

44 Of course. I love reading, and Father says I 
have very good taste in books. Have you read 
Dickens or Shakespeare? ” 

Pepita shook her head. 

44 I never did read them,” she said. “ I know 
only two English books, 4 Simple Poems for Begin¬ 
ners * and 4 The Parents’ Assistant.’ ” 

44 Good gracious! ” exclaimed Agnes in a tone of 


118 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


such utter astonishment that Pepita blushed and 
felt suddenly rather uncomfortable. 

“ I know Spanish books,” she hastened to ex¬ 
plain, “ and French books, too. Ines and I have 
read many French stories.” 

“ Who is Ines ? ” Agnes wanted to know. 

“ She is my cousin. We have always lived 
together like sisters, and Perico is like my 
brother.” 

“ Ines and Perico, what pretty names. Tell me 
about them and about your home in Spain. I like 
to learn things, and then I can talk about them in 
school.” 

And Pepita, nothing loath, plunged eagerly into 
an account of life in Seville and of her happy 
Spanish home. As she wanned to her subject, her 
English, which had been very slow and correct at 
first, grew more and more broken and ungram¬ 
matical. She was in the midst of a description of 
the family in the tower, and of how Rafaelo had 
trained Abdul, when Agnes interrupted her to in¬ 
quire curiously: “What makes you say 4 tower-r’ 
for ‘ tower ’ ? It sounds so Irish. And you should 
say 4 taught him,’ not ‘ learned him/ ” 

Pepita blushed again. 

“ Mrs. O’Dowd always said 4 learned,’ ” she 
apologized. 44 It was Mrs. O’Dowd who learned— 
teached—me the English. I never heard any one 
else speak it till I was on the ship. Mrs. Pool did 


PE PITA'S NEW HOME 


119 

not speak like Mrs. O’Dowd, but Mrs. O’Dowd 
was my governess.” 

“ I never heard of an Irish governess,” said 
Agnes rather scornfully, “ but perhaps foreigners 
have them. I’ll tell you what I’ll do; I’ll teach you 
to speak correctly. I love to teach people. Let’s 
begin right away.” 

Agnes spoke eagerly, but Pepita did not look 
altogether pleased. 

“ My aunt is a very instructed lady,” she said 
indignantly. “ She speaks French and Italian. 
She would not have engaged a poor governess. I 
think I will not take a lesson this afternoon, thank 
you. Would you like to see my monkey? ” 

In spite of her twelve years and grown-up airs, 
Agnes was not proof against such an invitation, and 
five minutes later the two children were in the barn 
and Abdul was being put through his various ac¬ 
complishments. Agnes was charmed, pronouncing 
Abdul a most remarkable monkey, and the two were 
in a fair way to become good friends, when Miss 
Hawthorn called to them from the house. 

“ I suppose they want us to come for chocolate,” 
Pepita remarked, as they left the barn. 

“ Chocolate,” repeated Agnes. “ Why in the 
world should they want us for chocolate?” 

“ Is it not the hour ? ” inquired Pepita innocently. 
“ At home we always have it in the afternoon.” 

“Do you really? I wish we did. Why, I 


120 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


haven’t tasted chocolate more than half a dozen 
times in my life. They have it to drink at parties 
sometimes. People have tea in the afternoons, at 
least I’ve read about their having it in books, but 
nobody has it here. Almost everybody in Ports¬ 
mouth has supper at six or half-past.” 

“ Well, children, I hope you have had a pleasant 
time,” Miss Hawthorn said, when the little girls 
joined her and her friend on the piazza. And Mrs. 
Flemming added, “ You must come to see Agnes 
very soon, Pepita. Your aunt and I are old friends, 
and we want you children to be friends, too.” 

“ Yes, do come soon and bring Abdul,” chimed 
in Agnes. Then the guests departed, and Pepita 
followed her aunt back into the house. 

“ I am hungry,” announced Pepita, the moment 
the screen door closed behind them. “ I would like 
something to eat.” 

Miss Hawthorn gave a little start. 

“ Oh, my dear,” she said, glancing at the big 
wooden clock in the hall, “ it is after five, and we 
have supper at half-past six. If you eat now, it 
will take away your appetite.” 

Pepita looked very much surprised. 

“ I do not care about my appetite,” she explained; 
“ I always eat when I am hungry.” At which very 
natural statement poor Miss Hawthorn looked more 
troubled than before. 

Her impulse was to give the child a slice of the 


PEPITA'S NEW HOME 


121 


fresh sponge cake which she knew was in the 
pantry, waiting to be cut, but she remembered Mrs. 
Flemming’s advice about firmness, and resolutely 
hardened her heart. 

“ Little girls and boys in America are not ac¬ 
customed to eat between meals,” she declared. “ It 
is not good for their digestion.” 

“What is a digestion?” Pepita inquired. She 
was always anxious to learn the meaning of a new 
word. 

“ Their stomachs,” answered Miss Hawthorn 
shortly. “ Come now,” she added in a different 
tone, “ let us sit down and have a little talk. I 
want to hear more about your journey.” 

Poor Miss Hawthorn was quite unaccustomed to 
the society of children. She had brought up her 
younger brother, it is true, but that was years ago, 
and since he had grown up and gone out into the 
world, she could scarcely remember having talked 
to a child for more than a few minutes at a time. 
She had even been heard to declare that children 
embarrassed her, because she never had any idea 
what to say to them. But she possessed what some 
people lack, a very kind heart, and Pepita—who 
was quick to understand—had already begun to 
realize that her aunt wanted to be kind, so the hour 
that followed was not altogether an unhappy one, 
and by the time supper was over, the child was feel¬ 
ing much less lonely and forlorn than she had 


122 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


expected to feel on the first evening in her new 
home. 

After supper they sat on the piazza, which was 
really cool and pleasant now that the sun had gone 
down, and Pepita told her aunt about the inner 
court and the fountain, and ended by inquiring 
why there was no fountain in Miss Hawthorn’s 
garden. 

Miss Hawthorn’s explanation was not wholly 
satisfactory. It was probably because American 
houses were different from Spanish ones, she said, 
and she was also of the opinion that to keep a 
fountain playing all day would be a great waste of 
water. Pepita was still a little puzzled, but she 
went on chattering about her Spanish home until 
the clock in the hall struck eight. Then Miss Haw¬ 
thorn suddenly rose. 

“ Eight o’clock,” she said cheerfully; “ time for 
little girls to go to bed.” 

“ To go to bed,” repeated Pepita, her eyes open¬ 
ing wide in astonishment. “ Do people in America 
go to bed at eight o’clock? The evening only be- 
gins. 

“ American children do,” her aunt said decidedly. 
“ Your father was always sent to bed at eight pre¬ 
cisely, until he was thirteen, when the hour was 
changed to half-past.” 

“ But do not people go to bed when they wish to 
sleep ? ” 


PEPITA'S NEW HOME 


123 


Miss Hawthorn was very much perplexed. 

“ I am afraid you will find many things dif¬ 
ferent here, Pepita,” she said, and her tone was 
almost apologetic. “ I cannot imagine living in a 
country where people do not have regular hours for 
doing things. Why, I always go to bed at ten my¬ 
self.” 

“ But when do you go to the opera?” objected 
Pepita. “ The opera in Seville does not begin till 
nine.” 

“ I never do go. There isn't any opera in Ports¬ 
mouth, or theatre either. Of course there are con¬ 
certs and lectures occasionally, but I very rarely go 
out in the evening. Now, Pepita dear, if I consent 
to let you sit up till half-past eight, will you promise 
to go to bed then without making any more objec¬ 
tions ? ” 

“ I will go if you say I must,” promised Pepita, 
“ but I cannot go to sleep unless I am sleepy.” 
And with this assurance Miss Hawthorn was forced 
to be satisfied. 

Pepita kept her word and rose obediently when 
the clock struck half-past eight. 

“ Good-night, madame,” she said, politely hold¬ 
ing out her hand to her aunt; “ I hope you will 
sleep well.” 

“ Oh, Pepita, don't call me ‘ madame,' ” cried 
Miss Hawthorn, actually blushing; “it—it sounds 
so queer. I am your Aunt Jane.” 


124 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Am I to call you ‘Aunt Jane ’ ? ” asked Pepita, 
her face brightening. 

“ Certainly you are. Now give me a kiss, and 
run up to bed, like a good little girl. If you need 
any help you call call Maggie.” 

“ I do not need help,” Pepita assured her. 
“ Mrs. O’Do vd learned me to dress and undress 
myself. I can also take my bath.” 

“ I am sure Mrs. O’Dowd must have been a very 
nice woman, but, Pepita dear, you mustn’t say 
‘ learned ’ for ‘ taught ’; it isn’t good grammar. 
You must learn to speak correctly before your 
father comes home. He would be quite shocked at 
some of your expressions.” 

“ Would he? ” said Pepita, and there was a little 
catch in her voice, which Miss Hawthorn did not 
notice. “ I will try to speak good English before 
he comes. Good-night, Aunt Jane. I am glad I 
can say Aunt Jane; I like it much better than 
‘ madame.’ ” And she raised her face for the good¬ 
night kiss her aunt seemed to expect. 

“ She is a dear child, I am sure,” Miss Haw¬ 
thorn reflected, as Pepita’s retreating footsteps died 
away up the stairs. “ Of course she is quite un¬ 
trained, and I shall have a great deal to teach her, 
but I don’t believe she is going to be half as much 
trouble as I feared.” 

When Pepita reached her room she did not at 
once begin to prepare for bed. She went to the 


PE PITA'S NEW HOME 125 

window and stood with her elbows resting on the 
sill, looking out at the moonlit garden. 

“ America is a very strange place,” she said to 
herself, her thoughts relapsing into Spanish, as they 
always did when she was alone. “ I don’t wonder 
my mamma didn’t like it if she had to go to bed 
before she was sleepy, and wasn’t allowed to have 
a monkey in her room. I wonder why my father 
wanted me to come here. He cannot like me very 
much if he will only be pleased if I speak English 
correctly. If Uncle Miguel had not seen Ines for 
a long time, I am sure he would not care if she 
made mistakes in Spanish. Oh, dear Uncle Miguel 
and Aunt Dolores, I do want you so much.” Poor 
little Pepita gave way to a burst of homesick tears. 

At ten o’clock precisely Miss Hawthorn closed 
her book, and, having locked the front door, and 
tried the bolts of all the lower windows,—a task 
she never trusted to any one else,—went up-stairs 
to bed. Outside Pepita’s door she paused, and 
softly turned the handle. The room was in dark¬ 
ness, and the sound of regular breathing assured her 
that her little niece was asleep. If she had looked 
more closely, she might have noticed the traces of 
tears on the pillow, but she only closed the door 
again and went away quite satisfied. 

“ She will soon get accustomed to going to bed 
at proper hours,” she told herself as she lighted her 
gas. “All she needs is a little proper training.” 


CHAPTER VII 


THE FIRST SUNDAY 

N " OTWITHSTANDING the fact that she 
had gone to bed so early, Pepita slept 
— soundly all night, and did not wake until 

the daylight was streaming into her room. Even 
then she did not feel particularly wide-awake, and 
was just about to turn over for another nap, when 
the handle of her door was unceremoniously turned 
and Maggie came into the room. 

“ Time to get up, Miss Pepita,” she announced 
pleasantly. “ Your aunt told me to call you at 
half-past seven. Your bath is all ready.” 

“ Thank you,” said Pepita, rather sleepily, “ but 
I do not care to take a bath this morning. I will 
have my chocolate before I get up.” 

“ Chocolate before you get up,” gasped Maggie, 
her eyes opening wide in astonishment. “ Why, I 
never heard of such a thing in my life. Pm afraid 
there isn’t any chocolate in the house, and even if 
there was, I don’t believe Miss Hawthorn would let 
you have it in bed. Come now, get up like a good 
child and don’t make excuses.” 

It was Pepita’s turn to look surprised. She was 

126 




THE FIRST SUNDA V 


12 / 


not accustomed to being directed by Aunt Dolores' 
maids. Even Celestine, whose special duty it was 
to look after Ines and herself, had always treated 
her with great respect. 

“ I will not get up yet,” she said; “ I will sleep 
some more.” And she deliberately turned over on 
her side and closed her eyes. 

Maggie lingered for a moment, uncertain what to 
do, and then she left the room, closing the door 
behind her. Pepita was just falling into a doze 
when her door was again opened, and this time it 
was Miss Hawthorn herself who appeared on the 
threshold. 

“ My dear child,” Aunt Jane began nervously, 
“ what is this I hear from Maggie about your not 
getting up ? I hope you are not ill.” 

Pepita sat up in bed, and regarded her aunt curi¬ 
ously. Miss Hawthorn was still in her wrapper, 
and her front hair was done up in crimping-pins. 
She was looking flushed and anxious. 

“ I am very well, thank you,” said Pepita, at which 
information Aunt Jane looked relieved, but still 
puzzled. 

“ Then, why—why didn't you want to get up, 
dear? ” she questioned. “ It is half-past seven, and 
our breakfast-hour on Sundays is half-past eight.” 

“At home,” Pepita explained, “ we have chocolate 
in bed, but Maggie said there was no chocolate, so I 
thought I would sleep.” 


128 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ But you’ve had all night to sleep,” objected her 
aunt. “ Little girls shouldn’t be lazy, you know. 
Come now, get right up and go and take your bath.” 

That was the beginning, and, as the day went on, 
it seemed to Pepita that things grew stranger and 
stranger. In the first place she took so long over 
her toilet that her aunt sent Maggie up to find out 
what was wrong, and when she finally appeared in 
the dining-room, Miss Hawthorn had almost finished 
her own breakfast, and was looking so distressed 
that for the moment Pepita really thought some¬ 
thing dreadful must have happened. 

“ Sit right down, Pepita,” she commanded. 
“ Maggie will bring your breakfast in a moment. I 
have had it kept hot for you. I am sorry, but you’ll 
have to hurry a little; Maggie always goes to nine 
o’clock church, and it is a quarter to nine already. 
I will have you called earlier another time.” 

Pepita said nothing. She was beginning to realize 
that there were many things in this new life which 
she did not understand. Her aunt was very kind, 
however, and the breakfast was delicious. She was 
rather surprised to be refused coffee, which had ap¬ 
peared to her as a good substitute for chocolate. 
She could not remember that Aunt Dolores had ever 
refused her anything she wanted to eat, and she 
reflected that American ways were certainly very 
different from Spanish ones. 

Breakfast over, Pepita hurried out to the barn to 


THE FIRST SUNDA Y 


129 


feed Abdul, but it did not seem as if she had been 
there five minutes, and she was just beginning an 
interesting conversation with the good-natured 
James, when her aunt called her to come and get 
ready for church. There was plenty of time, but 
Miss Hawthorn seemed oppressed by the fear that 
they would be late, and she hovered over Pepita so 
anxiously that the child grew nervous in her turn, 
and, in consequence, took twice as long to get ready 
than would otherwise have been the case. 

It was a very hot morning, and the walk to 
church, though not a long one, was rather trying. 

“ Why do we not drive? ” Pepita inquired, as she 
and her aunt hurried along in the blazing August 
sun, Miss Hawthorn evidently still under the im¬ 
pression that they were late. 

“ I do drive on rainy Sundays,” Miss Hawthorn 
answered; “ but cabs are so expensive, and, besides, 
it isn’t far.” 

It appeared that other people besides themselves 
had elected to walk to church that morning, and a 
good many of them were ladies. Pepita wondered 
what Aunt Dolores would do if called upon to walk 
to the cathedral on such a broiling morning. Miss 
Hawthorn was evidently well known in the town, 
for she was constantly meeting people she knew, who 
bowed and smiled as they passed, and more than 
one among them cast curious glances at her small 
companion. 


130 PUZZLING PEPITA 

The church was large and cool, and Pepita found 
it a great relief after the hot streets, although she 
did not consider that it compared in any way with 
the beautiful cathedral at home. The service, too, 
was quite different from any to which she had been 
accustomed, and she found it impossible to under¬ 
stand the long sermon,—the preacher used so many 
strange English words that she had never heard 
before. But she enjoyed the singing, and Aunt 
Dolores had taught her to be reverent in church, so 
she whispered some little prayers to herself, and 
after that felt happier and more at peace than she 
had felt all the morning. 

The church was crowded, but Pepita recognized 
Agnes Flemming and her mother sitting in one of 
the front pews. Her aunt had whispered to her 
that it was Mr. Flemming who was preaching the 
sermon. Pepita thought he had a rather stern face, 
and wondered whether Agnes loved him as much as 
she and Ines loved Uncle Miguel. When the serv¬ 
ice was over, and the congregation poured out into 
the vestibule, Pepita and her aunt found themselves 
the centre of a little group of people, several of 
whom shook hands with the little girl and spoke to 
her very kindly. Among them were Mr. and Mrs. 
Lewis, and Pepita could not help blushing when 
she thought of their call, and of that dreadful even¬ 
ing in Seville. Mr. Lewis was very kind, but his 
wife did not appear so friendly, and her keen. 


THE FIRST SUNDA V 


I 31 

sharp eyes regarded Pepita curiously from head 
to foot. 

They were just leaving the church when Agnes 
and her mother joined the group. 

“ Come and see me this afternoon, Pepita,” Agnes 
whispered eagerly. “ Two of my friends are com¬ 
ing, and they are both crazy to see you.” 

Pepita looked pleased, but a little troubled as 
well. 

“ What is it to be crazy ? ” she inquired rather 
abruptly of her aunt, as they were walking home. 

“ Crazy? ” repeated Aunt Jane, in a rather startled 
tone. “ Why, insane—out of your mind.” Pepita 
shook her head. 

“ I do not think that can be right,” she said. 
“Agnes Flemming said her friends were crazy to see 
me. She could not mean they were out of their 
minds.” 

Miss Hawthorn laughed; it was the first time 
Pepita had heard her aunt laugh. 

“ Of course,” she said. “ It is only an exag¬ 
gerated way of speaking. Agnes merely meant that 
her friends were anxious to know you.” 

Pepita looked relieved, but, before she could ask 
any more questions, her aunt met an acquaintance, 
who walked part of the way home with them, and 
nothing more was said on the subject of Agnes and 
her friends. 

“ You must be sure to eat a good dinner to-day, 


132 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Pepita,” Miss Hawthorn said, as she and her little 
niece took their places at the Sunday dinner-table. 
“ Maggie and Ellen both go out on Sunday after¬ 
noon, and we have only a cold supper. They leave 
everything prepared before they go.” 

Pepita glanced rather doubtfully at the plate of 
steaming soup before her. 

“ I will try,” she said, “ but I am not very hungry. 
One is not often hungry when it is hot.” 

“ Oh, but you must eat whether you are hungry 
or not,” said her aunt. “ I am seldom very hungry, 
but I have accustomed myself to eat at regular 
hours; every one does.” 

“ Do you always do everything at the same 
hour ? ” Pepita inquired innocently. 

“ Certainly; that is the only way to live com¬ 
fortably. For instance, I always write letters on 
Sunday afternoon. I am going to write a long one 
to your father to-day, and don’t you think you had 
better write to him, too ? ” 

Pepita’s face fell. 

“ I never know what to say to my father in a 
letter,” she objected; “but I will write if you say I 
must.” 

“ I really think you should, dear. You will surely 
have plenty to write about this time. He will want 
to hear all about your journey. Then there is your 
Aunt Dolores; won’t she expect a letter? I sent her 
a cable yesterday, but she will be anxious to hear 


THE FIRST SUN DA Y 


1J3 


how you got on during the voyage, and what you 
think of America.” 

“ Oh, I will write to Aunt Dolores,” said Pepita 
brightening, “ and to Ines, too. I do not mind 
writing Spanish, but the English is so difficult. If 
I knew my father well, it might not be so hard.” 

“ Well, you will soon know him,” her aunt as¬ 
sured her smiling. “ He is coming home before 
Christmas, and not going away any more either. It 
will be a great joy to me to have him give up the 
navy, and live at home. He has always seemed 
more like a son to me than a brother.” 

Pepita said nothing. The thought of her father’s 
coming home rather frightened her. What if he 
did not like her at all? There was a short silence, 
which Miss Hawthorn broke by asking rather anx¬ 
iously: “ What would you like to do this afternoon 
when you have finished your letters? Are you fond 
of reading?” 

“ I like to read in Spanish,” answered Pepita, 
“ but I have not read many English books. I think 
I would like to read Dickens and Shakespeare.” 

“Would you really?” said Miss Hawthorn, 
looking very much pleased. “ They are both in the 
library, but I am afraid you may find Shakespeare a 
little hard to understand. I will give you 4 Oliver 
Twist/ That was one of your father’s favorite 
books when he was a boy. I remember reading it 
aloud to him when he had the measles.” 


134 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Thank you,” said Pepita, “ but I think I 
would rather read Dickens. Agnes Flemming 
said Dickens and Shakespeare were interesting 
books.” 

Miss Hawthorn explained that Dickens was the 
name of an author, and that “ Oliver Twist ” was 
one of the books he had written. As soon as they 
left the dinner-table she took her little niece into the 
library and selected the book from the well-filled 
shelves. 

“You have a great many books,” said Pepita, 
with a rather awed glance about the room, the walls 
of which were lined with old-fashioned mahogany 
bookcases. “ I do not think I ever saw so many 
books in one room before.” 

“ Your grandfather was a great reader,” her aunt 
explained. “ He was also a collector. There are 
some rare first editions among these books. I don’t 
read very much myself, but your father is fond of 
books, and I know he will be pleased that you are 
fond of them, too.” 

Pepita glanced at the comfortable sofa between 
the open windows. 

“ I think I will take my siesta first,” she said, and 
promptly curled herself up in a corner of the sofa 
with “ Oliver Twist ” in her lap. 

Miss Hawthorn looked as if she would like to 
remonstrate, but, being totally unaccustomed to dis¬ 
ciplining children, decided, after a moment’s reflec- 


THE FIRST SUNDA V 


135 


tion, to let matters take their course, and left the 
room, merely remarking that she was going up¬ 
stairs to write. 

It was very pleasant in the library, and the only 
sounds to break the Sunday-afternoon stillness were 
the humming of the bees in the honeysuckle vine 
outside the open windows, and the occasional foot¬ 
step of a passer-by in the quiet street. Pepita won¬ 
dered at the stillness. In Seville people were al¬ 
ways unusually gay on Sunday. The streets were 
always crowded, and almost every one seemed to be 
bound for some place of amusement. In Ports¬ 
mouth people did not seem to do anything on Sunday 
but go to church and write letters. To be sure, 
Maggie and the cook were going out. She won¬ 
dered where they were going, and almost wished she 
might go with them. Maggie was very kind and not 
nearly so fussy as Aunt Jane. Then she thought of 
home and Aunt Dolores, and wondered what would 
happen if all the servants went out at the same time. 
Surely America was a very strange country indeed. 
She lay back among the sofa cushions, but found 
that she was less inclined for a nap than she had 
imagined, and, after ten minutes spent in an inef¬ 
fectual attempt to go to sleep, she sat up and opened 
her book. But “ Oliver Twist ” is not exactly easy 
reading for beginners in English, and Pepita soon 
found that she did not understand much of what she 
read. Many of the words were strange to her, and 


136 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


she had no idea of their meaning. She read sev¬ 
eral pages, then closed the book with a sigh. 

“ I think English must be the most difficult lan¬ 
guage in the world,” she told herself. “ I will look 
for something in Spanish or French.” 

But a careful inspection of the bookcases failed 
to reveal any literature in either of the languages 
she knew best. All the books seemed to be English. 
She did find an edition of “ Shakespeare,” and for a 
moment her hopes rose, but a glance into one of the 
volumes was sufficient to assure her that Shake¬ 
speare was even harder to understand than Dickens. 

“ I shall have to write those letters,” she decided; 
“ there is nothing else to do.” And, selecting pen 
and paper, she seated herself at the library table and 
began her task. 

The letter to Aunt Dolores was easy enough, and 
she wrote on rapidly for the next half-hour. There 
was a great deal to tell about the ship, and also about 
Portsmouth and Aunt Jane. 


“America is not cold, but very hot,” she finished, 
“ but I do not like it any better for that reason. My 
aunt is kind, but very strange. One does not have 
chocolate in bed, and, if one is late for breakfast, she 
is displeased. There are a great many clocks, and 
they all strike at the same time. One was a little 
different yesterday and my aunt was troubled, and 
said a man must come and attend to it. I am try¬ 
ing to be brave, dear Aunt Dolores, but I cannot 


THE FIRST SUNDA Y 


13 7 


help being sad sometimes, and I am sure I shall 
never like America any better than my mamma did. 
I am afraid my English is not very good, for my 
aunt corrects me a great deal. My father is coming 
home soon, and Aunt J ane says he will be displeased 
if I do not speak correctly, so I must try very hard. 
Oh, dear Aunt Dolores, I love you very much, and 
just as soon as I am old enough to do as I choose, I 
shall come back to you and always live in dear Se¬ 
ville. I will try to be good while I am here, and 
to obey Aunt Jane, even when she tells me to do 
foolish things like going to bed at eight o’clock in 
the evening, when I am not sleepy, and I will al¬ 
ways be your little girl.” 

Having finished and directed her letter, Pepita 
paused for a moment, and then, with a resigned 
sigh, selected another sheet of paper, and once more 
began to write. She wrote very slowly this time, 
and when, at the end of another half-hour, she read 
over what she had written, it did not strike her as at 
all satisfactory. 

Portsmouth, America . 

<e August Sixth. 

“ My dear Father: 

“ I am in America. I arrived yesterday on 
the ship, and Mrs. Pool brought me to my aunt in 
Portsmouth. I liked the ship and was not seasick. 
Captain Pool was very kind and so was Mrs. Pool. 
My Aunt Jane is also kind, but I do not know her 
very well yet. I am afraid I make many mistakes 
in English, but I hope I shall speak correctly by the 


138 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


time you come home. I do not want to be a sheely- 
shally. That is a word I learned on the ship, and I 
think it means foolish. I will also try to be good 
and obey my aunt, and I am 

“ Respectfully your daughter, 

“ Pepita Hawthorn. 

“ I hope you like monkeys. My Aunt Jane does 
not like them, but my Abdul is very clever, and I 
love him.” 

Miss Hawthorn was just finishing her long letter 
to her brother, when Pepita appeared in the door¬ 
way. 

“ I have written the letters to Aunt Dolores and 
to my father,” she announced. “ Now may I go to 
see Agnes Flemming? ” 

Miss Hawthorn looked up from her writing with 
a start. 

“ Why, yes, dear, I don’t see any reason why you 
shouldn’t,” she said, “ that is, if you can find the 
way. I cannot very well take you myself, as both 
the maids are out.” 

“ I am sure I can find the way,” said Pepita con¬ 
fidently. “ It is that white house next to the church 
where we went this morning. I go to the place 
where the tram-cars are, and then I turn to my left. 
It is not far.” 

“ Why, Pepita, you have quite a good bump of 
locality,” said Miss Hawthorn smiling. “ I think I 
can trust you to find the way. If you should be 


THE FIRST SUNDA Y 


139 


puzzled, just ask any one you meet to direct you to 
the parsonage of the Baptist Church. Don’t stay 
too long. We have .supper at six on Sunday.” 

Pepita was turning to leave the room when her 
eye was caught by a framed photograph on her 
aunt’s bureau. It was the picture of a young man 
in the uniform of the U. S. Navy, and the face was 
so merry and so handsome that the little girl felt 
drawn towards it in an unaccountable manner. 

“ May I look at that picture, Aunt Jane?” she 
inquired impulsively. 

“ Certainly, dear; it is a photograph of your 
father, taken when he was eighteen.” 

Pepita took the photograph in her hand and 
looked at it long and earnestly. 

“ He looks as if he liked to be happy,” she re¬ 
marked reflectively. “ Did he always enjoy him¬ 
self?” 

“ Most of the time,” her aunt answered smiling. 
“ I am afraid your father was a sad pickle in those 
days. His kind heart made up for a great deal, 
though, and every one loved him. He has never 
been quite the same since your mother’s death, but 
even now his letters are very amusing.” 

“ I think my father will like Abdul,” Pepita de¬ 
cided, as she went away to her room for her hat. 
“ Perhaps I shall like him, even if he is an Ameri¬ 
can.” 

The thought of Abdul reminded her of Agnes’ 


140 


PUZZLING PEP1TA 


request, and she decided to take the monkey with 
her that afternoon, Abdul had not left the barn 
since his arrival the previous day, and she felt sure 
he would be glad of a little change. So, having 
procured the red velvet coat,—which had been care¬ 
fully folded and laid away by Aunt Jane,—she 
started for the barn in quest of her pet. 

James was sitting at the barn-door, smoking a 
Sunday-afternoon pipe, and he greeted Pepita with 
a friendly smile. 

“ I am taking Abdul out for a visit,'” the little 
girl explained. “ I have brought his coat, and I 
would like to wash his face before we start.” 

“All right. You’ll find plenty of water and soap 
at the sink, and there’s an old towel you can use, 
too. He’s a nice little feller, that monkey. There’s 
never a sound out of him when you’re not here, 
but he’s gettin’ to know me already, the little 
rascal.” 

Pepita thanked him, and proceeded to make 
Abdul’s toilet at the sink. She liked James, but 
was a little puzzled by his familiarity. She was 
accustomed to much more deference from servants 
at home. It seemed odd that the man should con¬ 
tinue to smoke in her presence, and that he did not 
offer to help her with Abdul’s toilet. When the 
monkey had been washed and dressed she brought 
him for James’ inspection. 

“ My, but ain’t he cute? ” exclaimed the Irishman, 


THE FIRST SUNDA Y 


141 


in a tone of genuine admiration. “ I never did see 
the like of him. I wish Jimmy could see him.” 

“Who is Jimmy?” Pepita inquired. She pro¬ 
nounced it 44 Jeemy.” 

“ Me sister’s bye, and a poor little feller he is, too. 
Never a step can he walk, and it’s in the Boston 
hospital he ought to be havin’ treatment, but me 
sister’s a widder and there’s the girl to feed as well 
as Jimmy, so where the money’s to come from I 
don’t know.” 

44 It is very sad,” said Pepita sympathetically. 
“ Rafaelo, the boy who trained Abdul for me, is 
also a cripple. I often went to see him and brought 
him good things to eat. I will go to see Jeemy, 
and take Abdul, if you think it would give him 
pleasure.” 

“ Bless your kind little heart,” exclaimed James, 
his honest face beaming, “ but I ain’t sure your 
aunt would like to have you go there. It’s in a 
tinement they live.” 

44 I do not know what a 4 tinement ’ is,” said 
Pepita, 44 but I am sure my aunt will let me go 
there if Jeemy wants to see me. I will ask her, and 
perhaps she will let me go to-morrow.” 

She was turning away, but at the door she 
paused, with a sudden recollection. 

44 What is a pickle ? ” she inquired abruptly. 

44 They’re sour, and you eat them with meat,” 
James explained. 44 They’re cooked in vinegar.” 


142 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Certainly English is a very strange language,” 
reflected Pepita, as she walked away. “ Why 
should Aunt Jane say my father was a sour thing 
that people eat with meat? I do not think it was 
at all polite.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


PEPITA FALLS INTO DISGRACE 

T HE streets were very quiet, and Pepita met 
few people as she walked along with 
Abdul’s basket on her arm. It seemed 
very strange to be out alone, for at home she and 
Ines had always been accompanied by Mrs. O’Dowd 
or Celestine, and, with the exception of the night 
when she had climbed the wall to see the children 
dance, she had never been in the streets by herself. 
It was evident, however, that in Portsmouth there 
was nothing unusual in a little girl being out alone, 
for she met several no older than herself. They 
were carrying books, and were on their way home 
from Sunday School, but this Pepita did not know. 
One girl in particular interested her very much, she 
was so pretty and had such a bright, pleasant face. 
Moreover, she seemed to be going in the same direc¬ 
tion as Pepita herself. At the corner, where the 
trolley line crossed the street, Pepita paused uncer¬ 
tainly. The other girl also paused and regarded 
her curiously. 

“ Will you please tell me if this is the way to the 

i43 


144 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Baptist church ? ” Pepita inquired. “ I think I 
should turn to the left.” 

“ It’s this way,” said the girl with a friendly 
smile. “If you come with me, I’ll show you, for 
I’m going to the parsonage myself.” 

“ I also am going to visit the daughter of the 
preacher,” Pepita explained, her face brightening 
at the prospect of a companion on her walk. 

“ Are you, really ? Then you must be the 
Spanish girl Agnes telephoned me about. She said 
she had asked you to come this afternoon. My 
name is Isabel Houghton.” 

“ I am very glad to know you,” said Pepita smil¬ 
ing. “ I do not know many people in America. I 
only arrived yesterday.” 

“ Yes, I know. Agnes told me about going to 
see you, and about your monkey. Have you got 
him in that basket? ” 

“ Yes,” said Pepita, and she lifted the cover of 
the basket and let her new acquaintance have a peep 
at Abdul in his gay attire. 

Isabel, who was an enthusiastic young person, 
was quite properly impressed, and expatiated so 
much over the monkey that Pepita felt drawn 
towards her at once, and, by the time the parsonage 
was reached, the two had become quite good 
friends. 

“ I’ve heard a lot about you,” Isabel explained. 
“ You see, everybody in Portsmouth knows your 


PEP IT A PALLS INTO DISGRACE 145 

aunt, Miss Hawthorn, and your father was a great 
favorite when he lived here. Isn’t your aunt very 
prim and particular ? ” 

“ She is very kind, ,, said Pepita loyally, “ but 
she is not at all like my Aunt Dolores in Seville. 
Are all ladies in America so very particular about 
the time they get up and go to bed ? ” 

Isabel laughed. 

“ No, of course they are not,” she said. “ Miss 
Hawthorn is an old maid,—I mean a maiden lady, 
—and she has lived by herself for a good many 
years and always had her own way in everything. 
That’s why some people felt sorry for her when 
they heard you were coming, but Mother said she 
believed you would do her a lot of good.” 

“ Oh, I am sure I shall not do that,” exclaimed 
Pepita blushing. “ She may do me good, but I am 
only a little girl and she is almost an old lady. It 
would not be respectful to learn her—I mean teach 
her—not to be foolish.” 

Isabel laughed again. She appeared to be find¬ 
ing this new acquaintance rather amusing. 

“ Oh, that isn’t what Mother meant,” she said. 
“ She just thought that having a little girl in the 
house might give Miss Hawthorn something to 
think about, and get her out of some of her fussy 
little ways. Here we are at the church, and the 
parsonage is right next. There’s Agnes on the 
piazza and Eaura Edwards, too. I didn’t believe 


146 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Laura’s mother would let her come. Her father 
is the Methodist minister, and they’re terribly par¬ 
ticular about what Laura does on Sunday.” 

“ What is the difference between a Methodist 
minister and a Baptist minister ? ” inquired Pepita, 
anxious for information on all subjects. 

“ Oh, I don’t know exactly; it’s just a difference 
in their churches. Methodists and Baptists are all 
very religious, and Agnes and Laura both have 
ministers for their fathers. My father is only a 
lawyer, and we are Episcopalians. I go to dancing- 
school, but Agnes and Laura are not allowed to 
learn to dance.” 

“ How very sad,” commented Pepita sympathet¬ 
ically. “ I love to dance,” she added. “ I love it 
more than any other amusement.” 

Before Isabel could answer, Agnes and her visitor 
had caught sight of the approaching figures, and 
were running across the lawn to meet them. 

“ I am so glad you could come, Pepita,” said 
Agnes warmly. “ I was afraid perhaps your 
aunt wouldn’t let you, on account of its being 
Sunday. I didn’t know you and Isabel knew each 
other.” 

“We didn’t,” said Isabel; “we just got 
acquainted. She asked me the way and I guessed 
who she was. She’s got the monkey in that 
basket, and he’s the most adorable thing you ever 
saw.” 


PEP IT A FALLS INTO DISGRACE 147 

The next ten minutes were devoted to Abdul, and 
by the time he had been put through a number of 
his tricks and the four little girls had left off marvel¬ 
ling at his cleverness, they had become very good 
friends. Pepita was not in the least shy, and was 
quite ready to respond to friendliness from any one. 
She and Ines had been kept very much by them¬ 
selves, so that the society of these three bright, 
friendly girls was a new and delightful experience. 
She was soon chattering away as freely as if she 
had been accustomed to speaking English all her 
life, and if her companions were somewhat as¬ 
tonished by her many mistakes in grammar, and by 
her funny Irish accent, they were too polite to let 
her see it. 

“ I shall teach Abdul many more tricks when I 
have the time,” Pepita assured them proudly, as 
Abdul walked sedately from one little girl to 
another, holding out his mite of a hand to be 
shaken by each in turn. “ One of the gentlemen 
on the ship did learn—teach—him to smoke a pipe, 
but unfortunately I have no pipe. Perhaps your 
papa may have one, Agnes.” 

“ My father never smokes,” said Agnes, looking 
rather shocked; and Laura Edwards—a plump 
little person of eleven—added: “Neither does 
mine. He says smoking is a disgusting habit.” 

Isabel giggled. 

“ My father smokes,” she said, “ but I don’t 


148 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


believe he would like to lend his pipe to a monkey. 
What other things can Abdul do? ” 

“ He can dance/’ said Pepita proudly; ‘'he 
dances most beautifully, but he will not do it if 
there is no music. A lady on the ship would play 
the piano, and Abdul would dance the waltz and the 
polka. Have you a piano in your house ? ” 

“Yes,” said Agnes, “but none of us plays. 
Besides, it’s Sunday.” 

“ You’ve got a phonograph,” Isabel suggested 
eagerly. She had not apparently heard Agnes’ last 
sentence. 

Agnes hesitated. 

“Yes, we have,” she said, “but it’s up in 
Father’s study. Father’s out and so’s Mother, but 
do you think we ought to let him dance on Sun¬ 
day?” 

“ I don’t see any harm,” said Isabel. “ Monkeys 
aren’t Christians; they don’t know Sundays from 
week-days. Come on, I’m crazy to see Abdul 
dance.” 

Agnes still looked doubtful, and so did Laura, but 
Isabel was the leading spirit of the party and 
generally succeeded in having her own way. So, 
in consequence of her persuasion, in less than five 
minutes the four children were on their way up¬ 
stairs to the minister’s study. Pepita, who had no 
scruples against dancing on Sunday, was feeling 
happier than at any time since leaving Seville. She 


PEPITA FALLS INTO DISGRACE I49 

looked about rather curiously as they entered the 
book-lined study. 

“ I think Americans must read a great deal,” she 
remarked. “ Agnes’ father has even more books in 
his library than my aunt has in hers.” 

“ My father is a very learned man,” said Agnes, 
with the little conceited manner which her friends 
frequently found annoying. “ He has travelled 
almost all over the world.” 

Pepita looked impressed, and would have liked 
to continue the conversation, but Isabel was already 
winding up the phonograph and Laura was search¬ 
ing through the box of records. 

“ You haven’t got much dance music, Agnes,” 
she complained. “ Most of your records are songs 
or classical things. Oh, here is something that 
might do, 4 Spanish Dance, played by Fritz 
Kreisler.’ Shall we try it? ” 

Isabel nodded, and Laura put on the record. As 
the first strains of the lovely melody fell upon their 
ears, Pepita gave a little skip and clapped her hands 
rapturously. 

“ I know that,” she cried; “ I have danced to it 
often. It is the tune the hurdy-gurdy man played 
that night.” 

She paused, blushing, and suddenly remembering 
that these new friends knew nothing of that episode. 
But no one was paying any attention to her, for all 
eyes were fixed upon Abdul. At the first sound of 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


150 

the music the monkey had pricked up his ears and 
begun to struggle in his mistress’ arms. 

“ See, he wants to dance,” cried Isabel. “ Put 
him down, Pepita, and let us see what he will do.” 

Pepita complied, and in another moment the 
clever little animal had placed himself in position 
and begun to dance. The three little Americans 
shrieked with delight. 

“ He’s the cleverest thing in the world,” declared 
Agnes, everything else forgotten in the excitement 
of the moment. “ Oh, Pepita, I should think you’d 
just adore him.” 

Pepita’s bosom swelled with pride, but she said 
nothing, only beat time with an impatient little foot. 
The next half-hour was a very interesting one to 
them all. Abdul proved a model of good behavior, 
and not only did everything he was told to do, but 
really appeared to be enjoying himself as much as 
any of the others. But at last he evidently con¬ 
cluded that he had “ shown off ” sufficiently for one 
day, for he suddenly stopped dancing, and, spring¬ 
ing to Pepita’s shoulder, nestled his head in her 
neck. 

“ He is tired,” said Pepita, stroking her pet with 
loving fingers. “ That is what he always does 
when he has danced enough.” 

“ Well, he certainly has been angelic,” said 
Isabel. “ I think he ought to be rewarded. 
Couldn’t we give him some candy ? ” 


PEP IT A FALLS INTO DISGRACE 151 

“ I’m afraid there isn’t any candy in the 
house,” objected Agnes, “ but we might give him 
some sugar. I guess we’d better go down-stairs 
now; Father doesn’t like to have me play in the 
study.” 

“We haven’t done any harm,” said Isabel cheer¬ 
fully. “ Laura may have upset the records a little, 
but that’s all. We’ll turn off the phonograph as 
soon as this piece is finished, and then we’ll go right 
down.” 

It was true, as Laura had discovered, that the 
minister’s collection of phonograph records did not 
include much dance music, and consequently “ The 
Spanish Dance ” had been repeated a good many 
times. Indeed, it was now doing duty for the fifth 
time, but, strange to say, Pepita, who really loved 
music, had not tired of listening, and now suddenly, 
without any warning, her feet began to move. 

“ I must dance, just once,” she cried impulsively; 
and before any one realized what was happening, 
she was in the midst of one of the dances for which 
her country is famous. 

The other three gazed at her in amazement. 
Never in their lives had they seen dancing like that. 
Lured by the familiar music, Pepita quite forgot 
her unfamiliar surroundings and danced as she had 
danced to the strains of the hurdy-gurdy three 
months before. She was pleasantly conscious of 
the fact that she was creating a sensation. After 


152 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


all, if she could not read Dickens or Shakespeare, 
she could dance. 

Laura was the first to recover from the fascina¬ 
tion of the moment. 

“ It’s—it’s Sunday,” she gasped in sudden hor¬ 
ror. “ Oh, she ought not to dance on Sunday.” 

But Agnes and Isabel did not even hear the warn¬ 
ing. Never in their wildest imagination had they 
pictured anything so graceful, so altogether charm¬ 
ing, as Pepita’s dancing. 

“ Oh, Pepita, how did you learn it ? ” cried Isabel. 
“ It’s-” 

She paused abruptly, gazing towards the open 
door. The sound of the music had drowned other 
sounds, and no one had heard the opening of the 
front door, or the footsteps hurrying up the stairs. 
And now, there was Mrs. Flemming standing in the 
doorway, a picture of stern astonishment and dis¬ 
pleasure. 

“ Agnes,” she demanded, in an awful voice, 
“ what does this mean ? Dancing on the Sabbath! 
I never heard of such disgraceful behavior. Stop 
the music at once! ” 

Agnes flew to the phonograph, and Pepita, sud¬ 
denly conscious that something was wrong, stopped 
dancing and turned to discover what had hap¬ 
pened. 

“ I showed them how we dance in Seville,” she 
explained. She was still smiling, but at sight of 



PEPITA PALLS INTO DISGRACE 153 

Mrs. Flemming’s expression, the smile died on her 
lips. 

“ You are a very naughty little girl/’ the 
minister’s wife informed her severely. “ Agnes, I 
am astonished that you should have allowed such a 
thing. Dancing on Sunday, and in your father’s 
study, too. Laura, Isabel, I am ashamed of you 
both. I should have thought you would have 
known better.” 

“We didn’t ask her to dance,” faltered Laura. 
“ She did it of her own accord, and we couldn’t stop 
her, could we, girls?” 

“ I’m afraid we didn’t try very hard,” confessed 
Isabel. “ We’re awfully sorry, Mrs. Flemming, 
but she danced so wonderfully, and-” 

“ Don’t let me hear any more about it,” Mrs. 
Flemming interrupted, with undiminished severity. 
“ You must all go home at once, and Agnes must 
spend the rest of the afternoon in her room, for 
punishment. When you have had time to think 
over what you have been doing, I am sure you will 
realize how wicked you have been. As for you, 
Pepita, I shall tell your aunt what has happened, 
and she will be ashamed of you. Take that hor¬ 
rible little beast out of the house at once. Agnes 
should have known better than to allow it to be 
brought in. Now don’t stop to argue, any of you, 
but go at once.” 

Laura and Isabel were halfway down-stairs before 



l S4 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Mrs. Flemming had finished speaking, but Pepita 
remained rooted to the spot. Her cheeks were 
crimson and her eyes flashed. 

“ You are not a polite lady,” she declared, her 
voice shaking with passion. “ I came to visit your 
daughter and she asked me to bring my monkey. 
I was not doing wrong. I was only showing them 
how we dance in Seville.” 

She would have said more, but Isabel seized her 
firmly by the arm. 

“Come on,” she commanded; and in another 
moment she had hustled Pepita out of the room and 
was propelling her towards the stairs. Pepita did 
not utter another word until they were in the street; 
then her wrath broke forth afresh. 

“ It was an insult,” she proclaimed, her shrill 
little voice raised to a very high pitch. “ I will 
never go into that house again. If my cousin, 
Perico, were here he would demand an apology.” 

“ Oh, hush, Pepita,” urged Isabel, “ don’t talk so 
loud; the people will think something awful has 
happened. There isn’t any sense in making such 
a fuss. It was partly our fault, anyhow. We 
should not have allowed you to dance on Sunday. 
Mrs. Flemming was awfully cross, I know, but 
she’ll get over it. She isn’t really unkind, only 
very strict and particular. Hadn’t you better stop 
for Abdul’s basket? He looks rather queer to go 
through the streets, dressed up the way he is.” 


PEP IT A FALLS INTO DISGRACE 1 55 

In haughty silence Pepita returned to the piazza, 
picked up the basket, and, having placed Abdul in 
it, turned her steps resolutely away from the par¬ 
sonage. She walked so fast that Isabel found 
some difficulty in keeping pace with her. Laura 
had already disappeared. 

“ I’ll go home with you, if you like,” panted 
Isabel, breaking silence for the first time, when 
they had reached the trolley line. “ I can tell your 
aunt exactly how it happened, and perhaps she 
won’t scold so much when she knows it was partly 
our fault.” 

Pepita turned upon her indignantly. 

“ Why should my aunt scold ? ” she demanded. 
“ I have done nothing wrong. I will tell her what 
that lady said to me, and she will be very angry. 
My aunt is very kind; she will not allow that I shall 
be insulted.” 

“ O dear! ” moaned good-natured Isabel; “ what 
an awful fuss you do make. Mrs. Flemming has 
often scolded me before, and I never minded it so 
very much. You see, nobody dances on Sunday, 
and when Mrs. Flemming saw you doing it she was 
shocked, that’s all. We should have stopped you 
right away, but you did dance so wonderfully. 
You must do it again to-morrow; nobody will mind 
on a week-dav.” 

J 

But Pepita’s wrath was still far from being 
appeased. She was very angry, angrier than she 


i 5 6 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


had ever been in her life before, and all Isabel’s 
soothing words were of no* avail. Isabel went with 
her as far as her aunt’s door, and there bade her a 
reluctant farewell. 

“ I do hope Miss Hawthorn won’t be very cross,” 
she said to herself, as she stood watching Pepita 
mount the front steps. “ Pepita didn’t know she 
was doing anything wrong, but things must be very 
different in Spain.” 

The front door was open, and Pepita walked 
straight to the parlor, where she heard the sound 
of voices. Miss Hawthorn was entertaining a 
visitor, and, unfortunately for Pepita, that visitor 
was Mrs. Lewis. 

“Back again so soon, dear?” Aunt Jane said 
kindly, as her little niece appeared on the thresh¬ 
old. “ I hope you had a pleasant time. Come 
and speak to Mrs. Lewis. You met her in Seville, 
you know.” 

Pepita advanced and held out her hand. Her 
cheeks were still burning. 

“ You are the lady who saw me dance,” she said. 
“ Was it wrong that I should dance? ” 

“ Why—why, no, I don’t suppose there was any¬ 
thing wrong in it,” faltered the visitor, who was 
more than a little surprised by this abrupt question. 
“ It wasn’t just the thing for a little girl to dance 
in the street, but otherwise-” 

“ I know,” interrupted Pepita; “ it was wrong to 



PEP IT A FALLS INTO DISGRACE 15 7 

dance in the street, but it is not wrong to dance in 
a house. Aunt Jane, a lady has insulted me.” 

“ My dear child,” gasped Miss Hawthorn, “ what 
do you mean? Was it in the street? Did some 


“ No, it was not in the street,” Pepita explained. 
“ It was Agnes Flemming’s mother. I took Abdul 
with me to see Agnes. There were other girls there 
and Abdul performed for them. They liked it, and 
said he was very clever. They made music on a 
gramophone, and Abdul danced and then I danced 
also.” 

“ You danced,” cried Mrs. Lewis,—“ on Sunday, 
and in the Baptist minister’s house! How per¬ 
fectly frightful! ” 

Poor Aunt Jane clasped her hands and sank back 
on the sofa in helpless despair. 

“ I did not know it was wrong to dance on Sun¬ 
day,” said Pepita, her voice beginning to tremble. 
“Agnes and her friends did not tell me; they 
seemed to like to see me, until Mrs. Flemming came 
in, and then they were frightened, and ran away.” 

“ Oh, Pepita, what shall I do with you ? ” moaned 
poor Miss Hawthorn. “ I don’t suppose you did 
know, but what will the Flemmings think of us? ” 

“ Mrs. Flemming will never get over it, never,” 
proclaimed Mrs. Lewis. “ I told you, Jane, that I 
was sure the child was being brought up a little 
heathen/’ 



158 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


Now Pepita had heard the word “ heathen/’ and 
knew what it meant, and her anger blazed forth 
afresh. 

“ I am not a heathen,” she protested; “ I am a 
Christian. We are all Christians in my home. 
My Aunt Dolores is the most pious lady in Seville. 
She has taught us to be kind, and to give to the 
poor. I will not be called a heathen.” 

Mrs. Lewis drew herself up haughtily, but said 
nothing. 

Aunt Jane began to cry. 

“ Oh, Pepita, don’t be rude,” she sobbed; “ it’s 
so naughty, and—and—don’t you think you’d 
better go up to your room and stay there for a 
little while, till you feel better? I am sure you 
must realize that this isn’t the proper way for little 
girls to speak to their elders.” 

“ But she called me a heathen,” persisted Pepita, 
“ and I am not a heathen.” 

“ Don’t argue with her, Jane,” said Mrs. Lewis 
severely. “ You are a naughty, impertinent child, 
Pepita. Go to your room, as your aunt tells you, 
and stay there until you can behave yourself 
properly. If you were my child, you would be sent 
to bed without any supper.” 

“ Don’t be so hard on her, Mary,” pleaded Aunt 
Jane. “ I suppose it is partly my fault for not 
having explained things more carefully to the child. 
We all know foreign customs are different from 


PEP IT A PALLS INTO DISGRACE 159 

ours. Tell Mrs. Lewis you are sorry, Pepita, and 
that you didn’t mean to be rude.” 

But Pepita did not even hear her aunt’s words. 
She had already left the room and was on her way 
up-stairs. The angry color had died out of her 
face, leaving it very white, and there was a look in 
her eyes that had not been there since the day she 
had heard the dreadful news that she was to go to 
America. She reached her own room, flung herself 
on the bed, and burst into a storm of tears. 

“ Oh, I hate America,” she sobbed, “ and I hate 
all the people in it, too. I am not a heathen, and I 
have been insulted twice. Oh, Perico, Perico, if 
you were only here, you would make people treat 
me with respect.” 

She cried unrestrainedly for some minutes, and 
then she suddenly remembered Abdul. In her ex¬ 
citement she had forgotten to take him back to the 
barn, but had left the basket standing on the piazza. 
Slipping off the bed, and without even waiting to 
dry her eyes, she ran quickly down-stairs again and 
out on to the piazza. The basket was still just 
where she had left it, and through the open windows 
of the parlor she could hear the voices of her aunt 
and the visitor in earnest conversation. 

James was out, but the barn was unlocked, and, 
having restored Abdul to his temporary home, and 
kissed the top of his furry head, Pepita returned to 
the house, and, slipping noiselessly up-stairs again, 


i6o 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


went back to her room, where she once more threw 
herself on the bed, and, quite forgetful of her aunt’s 
instructions, buried her face in the pillow-shams, 
and cried as if her heart would break. 


CHAPTER IX 


ROSY 

T HE storm was a long and bitter one, and 
when it was over, Pepita was so exhausted 
from crying that she dropped off to sleep 
and was only awakened by the sound of her aunt’s 
voice in the room. “ Pepita, oh, Pepita, your hat 
is on the floor. I am afraid you are a very care¬ 
less little girl. And don’t you remember, dear, 
that I told you yesterday not to lie on the bed with¬ 
out taking off the pillow-shams and the spread? 
See how you have mussed them already, and they 
were quite fresh yesterday morning.” 

Pepita sprang to her feet. Her head was aching 
and she felt rather giddy and queer. She was such 
a forlorn-looking little figure, with her swollen 
eyes and tear-stained face, that Miss Hawthorn’s 
kind heart was touched, and, obeying a sudden im¬ 
pulse, she slipped an arm round her, and bent to 
give her a kiss. 

“ There, there,” she said soothingly, “ we won’t 
say any more about what happened this afternoon. 
I know you didn’t mean to do wrong, but there are 

a great many things you will have to learn before 

161 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


162 

you get accustomed to our ways. In America nice 
people don’t dance on Sunday. They do not 
approve of dancing and card-playing on the Sab¬ 
bath. Mrs. Flemming is a minister’s wife, and 
very particular about all such things. She has a 
quick temper, but I am sure she had no idea of hurt¬ 
ing your feelings so much. Now, wash your face 
and smooth your hair, and then you can come down 
and help me get supper ready. ,, 

Pepita submitted to her aunt’s kiss, but did not 
offer to return it, and Miss Hawthorn left the room, 
looking troubled and a little disappointed. She 
was really longing for her little niece’s love, but, 
unfortunately, she was totally unused to children, 
and, being a very reserved New England woman, 
did not know how to make Pepita realize the fact. 

When Pepita came down-stairs five minutes later, 
she found her aunt cutting bread in the kitchen. 

“ Here you are,” Miss Hawthorn said pleasantly. 
“ Now 1 suppose you make the toast, while I put the 
kettle on to boil. I always like tea with my supper, 
and perhaps you would like a cup, too. I believe 
children do drink tea sometimes, provided it isn’t 
too strong.” 

“I do not care for tea, thank you,” said Pepita. 
“ I will drink water or wine, if there is no chocolate. 
What do I do in order to make toast ? ” 

Miss Hawthorn, who had been a strict temper¬ 
ance woman all her life, was rather shocked at the 


ROSY 


163 


suggestion of wine. She had never been abroad, 
and did not know that in foreign countries the light 
wines are drunk almost as freely as water. But 
she wisely made no remark on the subject, and pro¬ 
ceeded to instruct her niece in the use of the toast¬ 
ing-fork. 

Housework of any kind was another new ex¬ 
perience to Pepita, and one which she did not 
altogether enjoy. At home there had always been 
plenty of servants to do everything, and she could 
not picture Aunt Dolores’ delicate hands ever being 
engaged in cutting bread or washing dishes. The 
poor child was suffering from a severe attack of 
homesickness, and her heart seemed to grow 
heavier and heavier. 

Supper was a rather doleful meal, although Aunt 
Jane really did her best to be entertaining. She 
told Pepita several long stories about her friends, 
in none of which the little girl was at all interested. 
Pepita herself spoke very little. She was afraid to 
talk much, lest her aunt should notice the tremor in 
her voice and ask awkward questions. She was a 
proud child, and could not bear that a stranger— 
as she still considered this new aunt to be—should 
see her cry. 

When the simple meal was over, Miss Hawthorn 
proposed clearing up, remarking that she always 
liked to put things away herself, instead of leaving 
the work for the maids to do when they came home, 


164 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


as some of her friends did. She evidently ex¬ 
pected Pepita to help her, so the little girl pinned on 
a big apron, rolled up her sleeves, and fell to work. 
After all, dish-washing was rather fun, and all 
would have gone well if Pepita had not broken a 
plate, which slipped through her fingers onto the 
floor, when she was wiping it. Aunt Jane assured 
her it was of no consequence, but she looked so 
much troubled nevertheless, and tried so hard to fit 
the pieces together, in a vain hope that the plate 
might be mended, that the child was very uncom¬ 
fortable, and refused to do any more dish-washing. 

“ I am very sorry, but I am not accustomed to 
washing dishes,” she explained, with a rueful glance 
at her white little hands, which certainly did not 
look as if they had ever done any housework. 
“ The servants always wash the plates at home.” 

“ Oh, you will learn in time,” her aunt assured 
her cheerfully. “ When I was your age I loved to 
cook. I used to make all sorts of good things for 
my mother, who was an invalid. It is very im¬ 
portant that girls should learn to be useful about 
the house, especially in these days when servants are 
so hard to get. Why, only last year, I was with¬ 
out a maid for two weeks.” 

“ It must have been very uncomfortable for you,” 
said Pepita sympathetically, and there the subject 
ended. 

When everything had been put away, in accord- 


ROSY 


165 

ance with Miss Hawthorn’s ideas, they went into 
the parlor and Aunt Jane proposed that they should 
read till bedtime. 

“By the way, I forgot to ask about ‘ Oliver 
Twist/” she said; “I hope you are enjoying 
it.” 

“ I could not understand the words,” Pepita ad¬ 
mitted with a sigh. “ I tried to read the Shake¬ 
speare, too, but that was even more difficult.” 

“O dear!” said Miss Hawthorn; “that is too 
bad. I am afraid your English has been very much 
neglected. Suppose I read to you. You may 
understand better then. I haven’t read aloud for 
years, but I used to read a great deal to your father 
when he was a little boy.” 

Pepita felt sure that her aunt was trying to 
please her, so she murmured that she would be de¬ 
lighted, and Miss Hawthorn promptly began the 
first chapter of “ Oliver Twist.” But Pepita’s 
thoughts would keep straying off to Seville, and to 
the moonlit garden where the nightingale sang. 
Then she wondered what Aunt Dolores and Ines 
were doing, so it is doubtful if she understood much 
more of the story than when she had tried to read it 
herself. Aunt Jane read steadily and patiently for 
nearly an hour, and then the clock struck eight and 
she came to a sudden pause. 

“ Eight o’clock,” she said, and Pepita could not 
help noticing the relief in her tone. “ Time for 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


166 

little girls to go to bed. We’ll have to leave the 
rest of the chapter for another evening.” 

Pepita rose with more alacrity than on the 
previous evening. The fact was, she was longing 
to get to her own room where she could cry with¬ 
out being questioned. 

“ Good-night, Aunt Jane,” she said, holding out 
her hand. “ You were very kind to read to me. I 
am sorry I displeased you this afternoon; I did not 
intend to do wrong.” 

“ Of course you didn’t, dear, and I told you we 
wouldn’t say any more about it. I am glad you 
liked my reading. We’ll go on with the book to¬ 
morrow evening. Now, kiss me good-night, and 
run along. I think I will go to bed myself, for I 
have a headache coming on, and don’t feel like read¬ 
ing any more.” 

“ I hope the reading aloud did not give you the 
headache,” said Pepita anxiously. 

“ Oh, no, dear. I often have these neuralgic 
headaches, but I hope I shall be better in the morn¬ 
ing. There, it’s nearly five minutes past eight al¬ 
ready; you really must hurry.” 

“ I never supposed any one could be so particular 
about five little minutes,” Pepita reflected, when, 
having given her aunt the required good-night kiss, 
she was on her way up-stairs to her room. “ I 
wonder if all American ladies are like Aunt Jane.” 

Once in her room with the door closed, Pepita 


ROSY 


1 67 


did not make any immediate preparation for bed. 
She threw herself into the big rocker by the open 
window, and let the long-pent-up tears have their 
way. She was very homesick and very miserable, 
but the storm was not like the tempest of the after¬ 
noon. Indeed, it was soon over, and then she lay 
back in her chair with closed eyes, letting the cool 
night air fan her flushed cheeks and burning eyes. 

Fortunately for Pepita, it did not occur to Miss 
Hawthorn to come and see if her injunctions were 
being obeyed. Pepita heard her aunt’s footsteps 
moving about for a short time; then her door closed 
and everything was still. Suddenly she sat up, 
feeling very wide-awake indeed. 

“ I never gave Abdul his supper,” she exclaimed. 
“ I must go to the barn and attend to him at once.” 

In another moment Pepita was running softly 
down the stairs. Mindful of the fact that her aunt 
might already be asleep, she made as little noise as 
possible. She knew the side door had been left 
unlocked for the servants, and that a gas-jet had 
also been left burning in the kitchen. By this light 
she made her way to the pantry, and, having secured 
two fat cookies from the cake-box, she softly opened 
the side door and slipped out into the night. 

It was a beautiful summer evening, with a full 
moon in the sky, and the only sound to break the 
silence was the chirp of the crickets and katydids. 
The barn door was closed, and for a moment she 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


168 

feared that James might have locked up for the 
night, but when she turned the handle, it yielded to 
her touch and the heavy wooden door swung open. 

The barn was empty, and the only light came 
from the moon, which poured in through the un¬ 
curtained window. 

“Abdul,” called Pepita softly, in Spanish; “Abdul, 
my pet, where are you? ” 

There was a joyful squeak, the sound of little feet 
running across the barn floor, and Abdul sprang to 
his mistress’ shoulder and nestled his head in her 
neck. 

“ Oh, Abdul, I forgot you,” cried Pepita re¬ 
morsefully, as she hugged the little creature tight. 
“ I never even took off your beautiful velvet coat. 
I did not mean to forget, but I was so angry when I 
brought you home this afternoon. I only thought 
of telling Aunt Jane about the lady who insulted 
me. But I remembered before I went to bed, and 
so I have brought your supper.” 

She broke off a morsel of cooky, which the 
monkey proceeded to nibble contentedly. Some¬ 
thing in the mere touch of the little animal seemed 
to comfort Pepita. Here was at least one creature 
in this strange land who loved her, and was a link 
with her old home. 

“ I wish I could bring you into the house, Abdul,” 
she said mournfully. “ I would like to have you 
sleep with me in that big bed, but Aunt Jane would 


ROSY 


169 


be displeased, and I must not make her angry, for 
she is very kind. I will give you your supper and 
take off your coat, and then I must go back to the 
house. Oh, Abdul, if you could only speak, it 
would be such comfort.” 

Abdul looked up into her face and chattered. 
He was so irresistibly funny that Pepita laughed in 
spite of herself. 

“ You are droll, Abdul/’ she said. “ I wonder if 
you understand what I say. Oh, here comes some 
one. Perhaps it is James.” 

Pepita turned expectantly towards the door, but 
the person who had turned the handle and now 
walked into the barn, with an air of being very 
much at home, was not James, but a rather ragged 
little girl with bare feet and not a very clean face. 
For a moment the two children regarded each other 
in silence; and then the stranger suddenly bounded 
forward, crying in a shrill little Irish voice: “It’s 
the monkey. Oh, do let’s have a look at the 
monkey.” 

“Do you know about my monkey?” inquired 
Pepita in surprise. 

“ I sure do. Uncle Jim was to our house this 
afternoon, and he told Jimmy and me all about him. 
Jimmy’s crazy to see him, and I came to see if 
maybe Uncle Jim would bring him over. Jimmy’s 
back is awful bad to-night, and he’s got the notion 
that he won’t go to sleep till he’s seen the monkey. 


PUZZLING PE PITA 


170 

Mamma’s out, and I can’t do nothing to quiet 
him.” 

“ Is Jimmy your brother, and is he a cripple?” 
inquired Pepita, recalling the story James had told 
her in the afternoon. 

“ Yes, sure. Jimmy Callahan his name is, and 
I’m Rosy Callahan, and our Uncle Jim lives with 
Miss Hawthorn. I thought maybe he’d be home 
by this time.” 

“ No, he is not at home,” said Pepita regretfully. 
“ Does your brother want to see my monkey so very 
much ? ” 

“ I should say he did. He hasn’t talked about 
another thing since Uncle Jim told us about him. 
You see, he told how awful cute that monkey was, 
and how he could dance, and eat with a spoon. 
Jimmy’s only eight, and it’s awful hard for him 
to have to lie still all the time. He’s just cried and 
cried ever since Mamma went out, and I’m afraid 
he’ll be worse than ever when I go back and tell him 
Uncle Jim wasn’t here to bring the monkey.” 

“ Is it far to your home? ” inquired Pepita, with 
a sudden inspiration. 

“ Oh, no, only a little ways. I couldn’t have left 
Jimmy if it was far.” 

“ I remember,” said Pepita. “ James said you 
lived in a ‘tinement.’ Would you like that I go 
with you, and take Abdul to show to your little 
brother? ” 


ROSY 


171 

“ I sure would,” exclaimed Rosy, her plain, 
freckled little face growing suddenly radiant. “ I 
say, you’re a nice kid, that’s what you are. But 
would Miss Hawthorn let you? ” she added rather 
doubtfully. 

“ My aunt has gone to bed,” said Pepita. “ She 
said I should also go to bed, but I am not sleepy, 
and one cannot sleep so early in the evening. My 
aunt is a kind lady, and I think she would like that 
I do kind things. I will go with you if it is not 
far.” 

“ Come on, then,” said Rosy eagerly. “ It won’t 
take ten minutes to get to our place, and you won’t 
have to stay long. Jimmy’ll be satisfied as soon as 
he’s seen the monkey.” 

Two minutes later Pepita and her new acquaint¬ 
ance were hurrying along the quiet street, Abdul 
clasped lovingly in his little mistress’ arms. It 
was only a short distance to Rosy’s home, and a 
few minutes’ walk brought them into a very dif¬ 
ferent neighborhood—a neighborhood of narrow 
streets and shabby houses, where children, whose 
appearance would have been improved by a judi¬ 
cious use of soap and water, thronged the uneven 
sidewalks, and scolding mothers called to them from 
upper windows. At sight of the children Pepita’s 
face brightened. Here, at least, were children 
whose parents did not consider it necessary to send 
them to bed when the clock struck eight. 


172 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ This is like Seville,” she told Rosy. “ In Se¬ 
ville the children all play in the streets in the even- 
in g. 

Where’s that ? ” inquired Rosy with interest. 

“ In Spain. It is my home,” said Pepita, with a 
little catch in her voice. 

“ Oh, of course, you’re Spanish; that’s what 
makes you talk so queer. Uncle Jim said you was 
a foreigner, but you don’t talk like a Dago. 
Spanish people ain’t Dagos, are they?” 

“ I do not know,” Pepita admitted. “ I never 
heard that word before. What does it mean? ” 

“ It means an I-tal-ian. We always call I-tal-ians 
Dagos. You ain’t one of them, anyhow. Say, it’s 
awful good of you to come and see Jimmy and 
bring the monkey.” 

“ I like to do it,” said Pepita virtuously. “ Is 
this house a tinement ? ” she added, with a rather 
doubtful glance at the shabby building before which 
Rosy had paused. 

“Yes, this is our place; we live on the top 
floor. Get out of the way, kids; we want to go 
in.” 

But the children who were crowding the doorway 
of the “ tinement ” had already caught sight of the 
monkey in Pepita’s arms, and there was a general 
cry of interest and admiration. Before she quite 
realized what was happening, Pepita found herself 
the centre of an excited group, who pushed and 


ROSY 


*73 


jostled one another in their efforts to get as close 
as possible to the interesting little animal. 

“Oh, see the monkey! Ain’t he cute! He’s 
dressed up just like a little man. Oh, do let’s have 
a look at him. Can he do tricks ? ” 

These were only a few of the exclamations of 
wonder and admiration. Good-natured Pepita 
would have been disposed to linger and show off 
some of Abdul’s accomplishments, but not so her 
companion. Rosy was in a hurry, and had no 
intention of being detained. 

“ Get out of the way, all of you,” she com¬ 
manded. “ She’s brought the monkey to show 
Jimmy ’cause he’s sick. We ain’t got no time to 
fool.” And with a wave of her strong little arms 
she dispersed the eager crowd and led the way up 
the steep, narrow stairs to the top floor. 

As they proceeded, Pepita looked about her 
curiously. She decided that a “ tinement ” was a 
much less desirable residence than the Giralda 
Tower, and her heart was filled with pity for the 
little crippled boy obliged to spend his life in this 
shabby, dirty place, and in this heavy, unwholesome 
atmosphere. 

“ Does your brother never go out ? ” she asked 
Rosy, as they reached the top of the first flight. 

“ Not since his back got so bad. Mamma used 
to take him for trolley rides to the beaches, but he 
can’t stand the trolley now.” 


174 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Pepita had no idea what a trolley was, but felt 
very sorry that Jimmy could not stand one, for the 
further up they went, the less desirable abode the 
“ tinement ” appeared to be. On the top landing 
Rosy paused and opened a door. 

“ Come in,” she said hospitably; “ this is our 
place. Wait here a minute while I see if he’s 
awake.” 

She tiptoed softly across a room, which evidently 
did duty as both kitchen and parlor, and peeped into 
a sort of closet from whence there instantly was 
heard a weak, fretful little voice. 

“ Where did you go, Rosy? ” the voice demanded 
reproachfully. “ I was awful dry, and there wasn’t 
nobody to give me a drink. Mamma said you 
wasn’t to go off and leave me all alone.” 

“ I went for that monkey,” Rosy explained. 
“ Don’t you remember I said I’d try to get Uncle 
Jim to bring him to show you? Uncle Jim was 
out, but I got the monkey just the same. The girl 
that owns him come with me herself. Wasn’t she 
a peach? He’s just the cutest little feller you ever 
did see. I’ll lift you out into the front room, and 
you can sit on the sofa where it’s light and have a 
good look at him.” 

This suggestion evidently met with Jimmy’s ap¬ 
proval, for in another moment Rosy reappeared, 
bearing in her strong young arms a frail little figure 
in a flannel nightgown, which she deposited very 


ROSY 


'7 5 


tenderly on the shabby sofa. Jimmy Callahan was 
not a prepossessing child, but his thin, pinched 
little face bore marks of suffering, which even 
Pepita, unaccustomed as she was to illness, could 
not fail to notice. At sight of the monkey the big 
hollow eyes grew suddenly bright with interest. 

“ Bring him over here and let me look at him,” 
he commanded. “ Oh, I say, he is cute. Make 
him do his tricks. Uncle Jim says he eats with a 
spoon.” 

It almost seemed to Pepita as if Abdul under¬ 
stood the situation and what was expected of him, 
for never before had he “ shown off ” to better ad¬ 
vantage. Not only did he perform all his tricks 
satisfactorily, including feeding himself with bread 
and milk, which Rosy provided, but he consented 
to sit on the arm of the sofa while Jimmy stroked 
him with his thin little hands. Rosy and Jimmy 
were enchanted. Rosy clapped her hands, and 
Jimmy’s weak little laugh rang out merrily, while 
Pepita’s pride in her pet’s accomplishments increased 
every moment. The fun was at its height when the 
door opened and Mrs. Callahan, a pale, tired-look¬ 
ing woman with a kind face and blue Irish eyes, 
came into the room. At sight of the visitors she 
stopped short on the threshold in amazement. 

“ It’s the monkey Uncle Jim told us about, 
Mamma,” cried Rosy. “ The Spanish kid brought 
it herself to show Jimmy. Just wait till I put some 


176 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


more bread and milk in this bowl, and you’ll see him 
feed himself with a spoon.” 

But Mrs. Callahan did not appear as much inter¬ 
ested in Abdul as she was in other things. 

“ Are you Miss Hawthorn’s niece? ” she inquired 
of Pepita, without paying any attention to her 
daughter’s explanation. “ And did your aunt say 
you could bring the monkey here ? ” 

“ My aunt is in bed,” answered Pepita, rather 
surprised by this curt mode of address. “ She does 
not know that I am here.” 

“ In her bed, is she, and you never told her you 
was cornin’ ? Oh, darlin’, you shouldn’t have done 
that. If she wakes up and finds you’re gone, she’ll 
be in an awful way, and no wonder, neither. It 
was real good of you to bring the monkey to show 
Jimmy, but you must go right straight home this 
minute, and let’s hope your aunt is sound asleep 
and not worryin’ the life out of her about you. 
There, Jimmy darlin’, stop cryin’ like a good bye 
and see what I brought you home from Mrs. Mul¬ 
ligan’s. A nice big peach. Rosy’ll peel it for you, 
and you can be eatin’ it while I take the little girl 
home to her aunt’s. I wouldn’t be easy a minute 
all night, thinkin’ she might have got lost goin’ 
home by herself. Now come right along with me, 
dearie, for we’ve got to hurry.” 

Mrs. Callahan was a very energetic person, and 
almost before Pepita realized what was happening, 


ROSY 


177 


she and Abdul were being swept down the stairs 
and out into the street. Some of the children 
were still lingering on the doorstep in the hope of 
another glimpse of the monkey, but a wave of 
Mrs. Callahan’s arm sent them flying in all direc¬ 
tions. 

“ Get out of the way, all of you,” she com¬ 
manded; “we’ve got no time for foolin’. You 
mustn’t mind walkin’ fast,” she added to Pepita. 
“ Your aunt’s a very nice lady, but that nervous 
she’d take on awful if she thought somethin’ had 
happened to you. How did you know my Jimmy 
wanted to see the monkey ? ” 

“ Rosy told me,” panted Pepita, trying vainly to 
keep pace with her companion’s long strides. “ She 
came to the barn when I was there, giving Abdul 
his supper, and she said her little brother was ill 
and wanted to see my monkey.” 

“And you come right along with her? Well, 
well, I never.” 

“ I did not know my aunt would object to my 
going to your home,” said Pepita. “ It was too 
early to sleep, and I thought it would give Jimmy 
pleasure.” 

“ And so it did, darlin’,” Mrs. Callahan assured 
her heartily; “ and you’re a real kind little lady, but, 
you see, young ladies like you don’t go out in the 
street alone at night, and your aunt wouldn’t like 
it.” 


i;8 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Rosy was by herself,” said Pepita, “ and it was 
not far.” 

“ Rosy's different,” Rosy’s mother explained. 
“ Poor people has to do things that rich ones don’t. 
Not that I have a word of blame for you, dearie, 
for anything that gives Jimmy pleasure does me 
heart good. He has a hard enough time of it, poor 
little feller.” 

“ I am very sorry for Jimmy,” said Pepita 
sympathetically. “ Has he been ill a long time ? ” 

“ He’s never been off his back since last winter, 
when he had that accident. Him and some other 
boys was coastin’ down a big hill, an’ somethin’ went 
wrong with the sled, and it ran into a tree. One of 
the byes got his leg broke, but Jimmy was hurt the 
worst of any of them.” 

“ It is very sad,” said Pepita. “ Will he not be 
well again soon ? ” 

Mrs. Callahan shook her head sadly. 

“ He might if he could go to the hospital in 
Boston,” she said. “ They say there’s a great 
doctor there that cures things like that, but it’s ten 
dollars a week, besides the car-fare, and times is 
awful hard just now. The landlord’s raised the 
rent on us, and I can’t go out by the day as I used, 
on account of lookin’ after Jimmy, so I’m afraid 
we’ll have to wait a while longer. Me brother 
James would help us if he could, but there’s our old 
mother in Ireland that’s helpless with paralysis and 


ROSY 179 

has to have a body to look after her. That takes 
about all the money he can spare.” 

“ Would not my aunt give you the money if you 
asked her ? ” inquired Pepita, with a vivid recollec¬ 
tion of Aunt Dolores’ many acts of kindness. 

“ Miss Hawthorn is it? And do you think we’d 
be askin’ the likes of her for help? Not that she 
isn’t a kind lady, for she is that, and real charitable, 
too, but me brother James isn’t one to talk about his 
family affairs. Maybe Miss Hawthorn never even 
heard about Jimmy. Here we are, all right, and, 
thank goodness, there’s no light in your aunt’s 
room. Now jist creep in as quiet as a mouse and 
go straight to your bed, like a good little lady.” 

Pepita was conscious of a sensation of decided 
relief. She had not intended to do wrong, but the 
thought of her aunt’s possible anxiety about her 
had not been pleasant. She was quite ready to fol¬ 
low Mrs. Callahan’s instructions, but first Abdul 
must be undressed and tucked in his basket for the 
night. James had not yet returned, but Mrs. 
Callahan lingered until the monkey had received a 
last good-night kiss on the top of his head, and the 
house door had closed behind Pepita. 

“ I won’t leave you till I see you safe inside,” she 
declared; “ and I’ll be over in the mornin’ to tell 
your aunt your cornin’ to our place was none of my 
doin’.” 

It seemed to Pepita, as she crept softly up-stairs 


180 PUZZLING PEPITA 

to her own room, that Mrs, Callahan was making a 
good deal of unnecessary fuss. In Seville she and 
Ines had frequently visited the homes of the poor, 
accompanied by Mrs. O’Dowd, or even Aunt 
Dolores herself. She felt sure American ways 
were not as good as Spanish ones, but she was glad 
her aunt had not been frightened about her. She 
thought a great deal about Jimmy while she was 
undressing, and even after she was in bed. She 
could not forget that pale, suffering little face, and 
she longed to be able to help him in some way. 

“ If I could only earn some money myself,” she 
reflected, tossing restlessly from side to side in the 
big bed. “ I would give it all to Jimmy’s mother, 
and then perhaps she could take him to that doctor 
and he would be cured.” 

It had been a very exciting day, and it was a long 
time before Pepita fell asleep. But at last a sen¬ 
sation of drowsiness began to steal over her, and 
while she was whispering a little prayer to God to 
take care of her through the night, her eyes closed, 
and she knew nothing more till morning. 


CHAPTER X 
pepita's grand scheme 


(( 


s 


EVEN o’clock. Miss Pepita; time to get up.” 
Pepita opened her eyes, and became aware 
of the fact that Maggie was standing at her 
bedside, and that the bright morning sun was pour¬ 
ing into the room. 

“ Must one get up because it is seven o’clock? ” 
she inquired, with a yawn. 

“ I guess you’d better if you want to be in time 
for breakfast. You must keep very quiet, though, 
for your aunt has got one of her bad headaches, 
and can’t lift her head off the pillow. I’ve just 
brought her some tea, and she’s going to try and 
sleep for a while. She told me to look after you.” 

“ I am very sorry my aunt is ill,” said Pepita, 
wide-awake at last, and sitting up in bed. “ Will 
a doctor come to see her? ” 

“ Oh, no, it’s nothing serious, only one of her 
headaches. She often has them, but they’re gen¬ 
erally over by dinner time. Now you’d better get 
up; your bath’s all ready, but do be careful not to 
make any noise.” 

Pepita was really a very sympathetic child, and, 

182 


lS 2 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


in her efforts not to disturb her aunt, she tiptoed 
about so softly that when she came down-stairs to 
the dining-room, Maggie congratulated her on hav¬ 
ing been so quiet. 

“ You’re a real good, thoughtful little girl,” she 
said approvingly, as she pushed Pepita’s chair up 
to the breakfast-table. “If Miss Hawthorn can 
get a good sleep this morning, she’ll most likely be 
all right when she wakes. Now I’ve got a nice hot 
breakfast for you. Kate’s made some coffee, be¬ 
cause I told her you said you always had it at home. 
It’s so weak that I don’t believe your aunt would 
mind.” 

It was a novel experience for Pepita to find her¬ 
self seated at a breakfast-table set as carefully as 
though a whole family was expected to appear at 
any moment; but Maggie proved a very agreeable 
companion, and, before the meal was over, the 
little girl was chatting away to her with more free¬ 
dom than she had felt with any one since parting 
from Mrs. Pool. Maggie seemed much interested, 
and even asked questions about life in Seville, which 
Pepita was delighted to answer. 

“ It must be hard on the maids in Spain if every¬ 
body has breakfast in bed,” was her final comment. 
“ But if there’s such a lot of them to do the work 
as you say there is, why I don’t suppose it makes 
much difference. There’s the postman; I’ll run and 
bring in the mail.” 


PE PITA'S GRAND SCHEME 183 

Maggie departed, but returned in a moment with 
a letter in her hand. 

“ You’re the only one to get a letter this morn¬ 
ing,’’ she said, handing Pepita the envelope, on 
which she recognized the small, puzzling writing, 
which she had always associated with letters from 
her father. The postmark was San Francisco. 

“ Ain’t you going to read it? ” the maid inquired 
curiously, as Pepita sat with the unopened letter in 
her hand, staring at it rather helplessly. 

“ It is from my father,” Pepita answered. “ I 
cannot read his writing. Even my Aunt Dolores 
had great difficulty in reading it. I must wait until 
Aunt Jane is able to read it to me.” 

“ Too bad,” sympathized Maggie. “ I wish I 
could help you, but I’m not a very good hand at 
making out writing myself. You’d like to read 
your papa’s letter right away, I suppose.” 

“ I do not care,” said Pepita indifferently, slip¬ 
ping the still unopened letter into her pocket. “ I 
do not remember my father well, and his letters are 
not very interesting. I will wait for Aunt Jane. 
Now, if you will let me have Abdul’s breakfast, I 
will take it out to him.” 

James was in the barn, and the sight of the good- 
natured Irishman recalled to Pepita her adventure 
of the night before, and she began at once to talk 
of Jimmy. James was very much surprised, not 
to say shocked, when he heard of Pepita’s visit to 


184 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


his sister’s home. He was sure Miss Hawthorn 
would disapprove, and yet he could not bear to re¬ 
proach the child for what had evidently been an 
act of simple kindness on her part. 

“ Jimmy loved Abdul,” finished Pepita; “I 
promised to bring him again very soon.” 

“ You must ask your aunt first,” James advised. 
“ Maybe she wouldn’t like your going to tinements, 
though my sister’s place is as clean as she can make 
it, that I will say.” 

“ I do not think my aunt will object to my being 
kind to Jimmy,” said Pepita. “ I wish I could do 
more for him than bring Abdul to see him. I wish 
I could give his mother the money to take him to 
the doctor in Boston.” 

James flushed. He was not altogether pleased 
that his sister should have told Pepita of her 
poverty. 

“ Oh, I guess we’ll get the money for that by and 
by,” he said rather shortly, and hurried away to 
pick vegetables in the garden for dinner. 

But Pepita was not satisfied. Her heart was full 
of sympathy for the little suffering boy, and all her 
life she had been taught to help those who were in 
need. If only Aunt Dolores or Uncle Miguel were 
here, she was sure they would do something for 
Jimmy. Had they not done everything in their 
power to have Rafaelo cured, even to paying the 
great doctor from Madrid to go and see him when 


PEP IT AS GRAND SCHEME 185 

he was in Seville? But, alas, Uncle Miguel was 
far away, and Jimmy’s mother had not seemed to 
think Aunt Jane would be interested. Perhaps 
Aunt Jane would not have the money to spare, even 
if she were interested. A lady who kept only three 
servants could not have a great deal of money, 
Pepita thought, remembering the staff at home. 
As for herself, she had no money at all. 

It was while Abdul was eating his breakfast, and 
Pepita was watching him with loving interest, that 
a thought suddenly darted into her mind. It was 
such a very uncomfortable thought, that for the 
first moment she tried to banish it as quite impos¬ 
sible, but it kept returning with more and more 
force every time she tried to drive it away, and at 
last she sat down on the barn floor and gathered 
the little monkey in her arms. 

“ I don’t think I could do it, Abdul,” she whis¬ 
pered softly, kissing Abdul’s furry head. “ Rafaelo 
took so much trouble to train you for me, and you 
are the only thing I have to remind me of home. 
I love you very much, although I haven’t had you 
long, and I am afraid you can’t be very happy, liv¬ 
ing in a stable all by yourself. Perhaps you would 
be happier with some one who would let you live in 
a house. You are so clever that I am sure people 
would pay a good deal for you, and I could give 
the money to Jimmy’s mother, and then she could 
take him to that hospital where perhaps he would 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


186 

be cured. It must be terrible, Abdul, never to be 
able to walk, and to have to suffer pain all the time. 
I think Aunt Dolores would tell me I ought to sell 
you, but I don’t want to—oh, Abdul, I don’t want 
to at all.” 

A tear splashed down on Abdul’s head. The 
monkey gave a faint squeak, and, putting up his 
mite of a hand, stroked Pepita’s cheek. It was 
such a loving little action that Pepita’s heart swelled 
with gratitude, and she hugged her pet tighter than 
before. The struggle was a long one, and perhaps 
the hardest the child had ever experienced in her 
life, but at last she rose resolutely, and, after giving 
Abdul another kiss, put the little monkey tenderly 
into his basket. 

“ I must do it at once, Abdul,” she said firmly. 
“ If I wait I may change my mind. I will not sell 
you to any one who will not be kind to you, and you 
haven’t known me long enough to love me very 
much. You will soon forget.” Pepita did not 
finish the sentence, but, choking back a rising sob, 
fairly ran out of the bam. 

Maggie and the cook were at their breakfast in 
the kitchen, so there was no one to see Pepita, as 
she hurried up-stairs to her room, and, having pro¬ 
cured her hat and Abdul’s velvet coat, which she 
had folded carefully away in one of the bureau 
drawers the night before, tripped softly down again 
and out through the open front door. In less than 


PE PITA'S GRAND SCHEME 


18/ 


five minutes she was back in the bam, and, with 
hands that trembled, was arraying Abdul in his gala 
attire. 

“ People will pay more for you if you are beauti¬ 
ful, Abdul,” she told the monkey. “ You are so 
adorable in your coat and cap that I am sure every 
one who sees you will want to buy you at once.” 

She was in such a hurry to accomplish her pur¬ 
pose before her courage failed, that it did not oc¬ 
cur to her to let Maggie know she was going out. 
Tames was still busy in the garden at the back of 
the house, and did not see her as she hurried across 
the lawn and out through the front gate. She 
walked fast, and did not pause until she reached the 
corner of the street; then she stopped and looked 
about her. 

“ I don’t believe I had better go to any of these 
houses,” she decided. “ The people may all be 
Aunt Jane’s friends, and she might not like them 
to know I had sold my monkey. I will go further 
away before I try to sell Abdul, and then when I 
come back I will tell Aunt Jane about Jimmy, and 
I think she will be pleased at what I have done.” 

So, silencing her conscience, which was begin¬ 
ning to trouble her a little as to the wisdom of what 
she was doing, she walked on for several blocks. 
There were more people in the streets this morning, 
but they still seemed very quiet in comparison with 
the busy, noisy streets of Seville. It was the 


188 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


beginning of another hot day, and Pepita wondered 
why there were no water-sellers in the streets, or no 
arcades under which one might walk, and keep out 
of the blazing sun. She crossed to the shady side 
of the street, but even there it felt very warm and 
Abdul’s basket seemed unusually heavy. She knew 
her way as far as the corner where the trolley cars 
passed, and where she had met Isabel the day be¬ 
fore. 

“ I think I will take a tram,” she decided sud¬ 
denly. “ I will not go very far, only just far 
enough so the people will not know Aunt Jane, and 
then I will stop at the prettiest house I can find.” 

She had a little money in her pocket. Her aunt 
had given her some change the day before, and had 
instructed her to put a ten-cent piece in the plate at 
church. She did not understand American money 
very well, but felt sure she must have enough to 
pay her car fare, and at that very moment an open 
trolley came whizzing round the corner and stopped 
close beside her. To mount the steps of the car 
was the work of a moment, and by the time she had 
found a seat she was already being whirled away 
into parts unknown. 

Pepita gave a little gasp. All at once she real¬ 
ized that she was rather frightened. 

“ Fares, please.” 

With a start Pepita looked up into the face of a 
busy and somewhat impatient conductor. Hastily 


PE PITA'S GRAND SCHEME 


189 


producing the little silver purse, a parting gift from 
Ines, she handed the man a coin. It was evidently 
more than was required, for the conductor counted 
out some change, which he put into her hand before 
moving on to the next passenger. 

Although it was only a little after nine o'clock, 
the car was full. There were mothers with babies, 
a party of boys and girls bound for a day’s excur¬ 
sion, and people of all ages and all conditions, all 
on their way to the neighboring beaches, in the hope 
of a sea breeze or a dip in the ocean. Pepita sat 
back in her corner and wished the car would not 
go quite so fast. In what seemed an incredibly short 
time, they had left the town behind and were flying 
along a country road. Pepita looked vainly for a 
house at which she might stop and offer Abdul to 
a would-be purchaser. The car itself showed no 
signs of stopping. Now they were in some pine 
woods, now out in the open country once more, and 
then suddenly there was a glimpse of the wide blue 
sea, sparkling in the morning sunshine. Then came 
a cluster of houses and the car began to slacken 
speed. 

“ Rye,” shouted the conductor, and a number of 
the passengers rose from their seats. 

“ I will not go any farther,” Pepita decided. 
“ I am sure this is quite far enough.” 

In another moment the car had come to a stand¬ 
still, and the conductor was helping her down the 


190 PUZZLING PEP IT A 

steps. She was evidently on a village street, for 
there were shops and small houses on both sides of 
the way. It was scarcely the neighborhood in which 
she might hope to find a purchaser for Abdul. She 
would have to walk on in the hope of finding some 
larger houses, but which way must she turn? She 
was still debating this question with herself when 
she caught sight of a pleasant-faced young woman 
with a baby in her arms. Gathering her courage, 
she ventured to approach this young woman and 
inquire timidly, “ Will you please be so kind as to 
tell me where the rich people live ? ” 

The woman regarded her rather curiously. 

“ I suppose you mean the summer folks,” she 
said. “ Keep right on this way towards the ocean, 
and you come to the cottages and the hotel.” 

“ Thank you,” said Pepita, and, without waiting 
for further information, she turned in the direction 
indicated and was soon trudging along a dusty road 
with scattered houses here and there. 

Pepita was not accustomed to very much exercise, 
and by the time she reached the esplanade, she was 
feeling decidedly tired. She began to wish she had 
stayed nearer home, even at the risk of selling 
Abdul to one of Aunt Jane’s friends. But when 
she finally came out in full view of the beautiful 
coast, it was so lovely that she forgot everything 
else for the moment. There was no doubt that this 
was the neighborhood she had been seeking. 


PEPITA'S GRAND SCHEME 19I 

Carriages and automobiles, filled with ladies and 
children in light summer costumes, whirled by every 
moment, and numerous small children, accompanied 
by nurse-maids, hurried along on their way to the 
beach. As to the cottages, they certainly looked as 
if their owners were “ rich people.” 

Pepita’s heart beat fast as she approached one 
of the most imposing of the summer residences, 
and, having mounted the piazza steps, timidly rang 
the door-bell. The door was opened by a white- 
capped maid who glanced with evident surprise 
from the daintily dressed little girl to her basket. 

“ Is the senora—I mean is the lady of the house 
at home ? ” inquired Pepita politely. 

“ What do you want with'her?” was the un¬ 
expected reply, and the maid’s face hardened as she 
asked the question. 

“ I would like to show her my monkey,” said 
Pepita. “ He is very clever. I think she may 
wish to buy him.” 

“Well, she won’t; I can tell you that without 
asking her. Anyhow, she isn’t in, so run along, and 
don’t call people away from their work for noth¬ 
ing.” And before Pepita could utter a word of 
protest—even if she had dared to do so—the door 
was firmly closed in her face. 

This unexpected rebuff was rather disconcerting, 
but Pepita could not believe that all servants were 
so impolite, so, after a little hesitation, she resolutely 


192 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


walked up the gravelled path to the next house. 
This time she was not obliged to ring, as two 
elderly ladies were sitting on the piazza, knitting. 
At the sound of approaching footsteps, one of them 
looked up from her work. 

“ What do you want, little girl ? ” she demanded 
rather sharply, as Pepita paused at the foot of the 
steps. 

Pepita curtsied. 

“ I would like to show you my monkey,” she be¬ 
gan. “ He is very clever, and does many tricks. 
Perhaps you would-” 

She got no further, for the old lady interrupted 
her. 

“No, I thank you. My sister and I don’t like 
monkeys. Take it away, please.” 

Pepita’s cheeks were crimson. This was even 
worse than having the door shut in her face by a 
maid. Still her courage did not fail. 

“ Some one must surely want Abdul,” she told 
herself resolutely. “ I will try another house.” 

She did try another house—and more than one 
—but always with the same disastrous result. 
Some of the servants were kind, but all seemed 
quite sure of the fact that their mistresses would 
not care to purchase a monkey. At one cottage the 
lady herself was just getting into a waiting auto¬ 
mobile. She had a little boy with her, and for a 
moment Pepita’s hopes rose; but although the little 



PEPITA'S GRAND SCHEME 


193 


boy looked interested, his mother appeared quite 
sure they had not time to see Abdul perform his 
tricks, and the car drove away before Pepita had 
finished her explanation. Pepita was very' tired 
and very much discouraged. She began to think 
she might be obliged to give up her scheme alto¬ 
gether, and go back to Portsmouth. She did not 
want to be away too long, for fear her aunt should 
wake and be worried about her. She had just de¬ 
cided to turn back in the direction of the car line 
when she suddenly came to a large summer hotel, 
the piazza of which was crowded with guests, 
gentlemen smoking cigars and reading newspapers, 
and ladies chatting and doing fancy-work. Pepita’s 
heart, which had been growing heavier and heavier, 
rose with renewed hope. Surely there must be 
some one among all those well-dressed ladies and 
gentlemen who would like to buy a monkey. So, 
gathering all her courage for one last attempt, she 
walked up to the piazza steps, and inquired in a 
voice that was not quite steady, “ Would any one 
like to see my monkey do tricks ? ” 

Several of the guests laughed good-naturedly, 
and one old gentleman laid down his newspaper. 

“ To be sure we should,” he said kindly. “ I am 
rather interested in monkeys. Let us see what 
yours can do.” 

So Abdul was released from his basket, and at 
the word of command from his mistress began his 


194 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


performances. The little monkey really was very 
entertaining, and in less than five minutes more than 
half the people on the hotel piazza had abandoned 
their occupations and were looking on. Pepita’s 
pride was great. 

“ He will smoke a pipe, if a gentleman will let us 
have one,” she announced, shyness quite forgotten 
in the excitement of the moment. 

A lighted pipe was produced by one of the men, 
and, amid much laughter, Abdul proceeded to puff 
away, with all the apparent pleasure and ease of an 
accomplished smoker. 

“ Bravo,” shouted several enthusiasts, and one 
excited small boy cried, “ Make him dance! ” 

At that moment the hotel orchestra, which had 
been gathering on the piazza for the past few 
moments, started the morning concert with a lively 
two-step, and instantly Abdul, still with the pipe in 
his mouth, began to dance. The fun grew wilder 
and more uproarious. People laughed and ap¬ 
plauded, and poor little Pepita’s heart swelled more 
and more. 

“ He will eat with a spoon, and tie a napkin round 
his neck,” she assured the audience. Her cheeks 
were crimson, and her eyes dancing with excite¬ 
ment. 

Some one went into the house and returned with 
a saucer of oatmeal and cream, and a large table- 
napkin. To watch Abdul tie the napkin about his 


PEP IT AS GRAND SCHEME 


195 


neck and then feed himself with a spoon was the 
crowning success of the performance, and the 
hotel guests became so enthusiastic that Pepita was 
really embarrassed. At length Abdul, evidently 
feeling that he had done himself sufficient credit 
for one occasion, retired with a final bow to the 
audience and hid his face in Pepita’s skirt. 

“ You certainly have a very clever little pet,” 
said the old gentleman, who had been the first person 
to speak to Pepita. “ I think we all owe you a vote 
of thanks for the entertainment. Would you mind 
telling me where you bought the monkey ? ” 

“ He was born in Algiers,” said Pepita proudly. 
“ He was brought to Spain on a ship, and a boy in 
Seville trained him for me.” 

“ Ah, I see. And you are Spanish yourself, I 
should say, judging from your accent? ” 

“ My home is in Spain,” said Pepita, “ but I have 
come to America to visit my aunt. So—do you 
think that perhaps you would like to buy my 
monkey ? ” 

“ To buy him ? ” repeated the old gentleman in 
surprise. “ You surely don’t mean that you want 
to sell him? ” 

Pepita nodded. 

“ He is to be sold,” she said. 

“ Well, well,” exclaimed her new acquaintance, 
“this is a surprise. If I had such a clever pet as 
that I don’t think anything would induce me to part 


196 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


with him. Come here, Amy,” he added, turning to 
a lady, who had at that moment joined the group 
on the piazza. “ You have missed something quite 
interesting, my dear. This little girl has been giving 
us a most entertaining performance. Her monkey 
is a wonder, and now she tells me that she wants 
to sell him.” 

“ I do not mean that I wish to sell him,” ex¬ 
plained Pepita, glancing from the gentleman to the 
lady, who was young and very pretty. “ I love my 
Abdul very much, but I must have the money to 
give to some one who needs it very much.” 

The lady smiled, and her smile was so kind and 
understanding that Pepita’s heart warmed towards 
her at once. 

“ Perhaps you will tell us about it,” she said, and 
Pepita, nothing loath, plunged at once into her 
story. Most of the other guests, who had been 
attracted by Abdul’s performance, had by this time 
drifted away to other amusements, and only the old 
gentleman and the young lady appeared to be inter¬ 
ested in what Pepita was saying. 

“ The money is for a little bye who has been 
hurt,” she began in her quaint English with the 
funny Irish accent. “ He should go to a doctor in 
Boston, who will perhaps make him well, but his 
mother is very poor, and cannot spare the money to 
take him there. He is a very sad little bye, who 
cries a great deal. Last night I did go to see him 


PEP IT AS GRAND SCHEME 


19 7 


and did take—I mean did took—Abdul with me. 
My aunt does not like monkeys. She will not per¬ 
mit Abdul to come into the house. Abdul has 
come all the way from Seville with me, and I love 
him, but if I can get money for him I must do it, 
for it is necessary that the little bye should go to 
that great doctor/' 

Pepita paused, blushing, in sudden embarrass¬ 
ment. Both her listeners were regarding her with 
kind, interested eyes. 

“ I think I understand, dear," said the lady 
kindly, “ but I am afraid you may be making a little 
mistake. Do you think your family would like to 
have you sell the monkey ? " 

Pepita blushed more than ever, and her eyes 
dropped. 

“ There is only my aunt," she said, “ and she 
does not like Abdul. She says he must live in the 
stable. I could not ask her this morning, because 
she is ill with a headache, but I do not think she 
will object." 

The lady gave a sudden start. 

“ What is your name? " she asked abruptly. 

“ Pepita Hawthorn. Oh! ” with a sudden rec¬ 
ollection, “ I hope that you are not one of my 
aunt’s friends. Perhaps she might not like her 
friends to know that I sell Abdul. That is why I 
came so far, that her friends might not know." 

But the lady did not seem to hear what Pepita 


198 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


was saying. She had turned eagerly to her com¬ 
panion. 

“ Why, Father,” she cried, “ don’t you know who 
she is ? It’s Dick Hawthorn’s little girl. Why, Pe- 
pita, I have known about you all your life, but I had 
no idea you were in America. My father and I 
came out here a month ago, and I haven’t hap¬ 
pened to see your aunt since. You had better tele¬ 
phone at once, Father; Miss Hawthorn may be 
worried. Come, Pepita, I am going to take you 
up to my room for a little while. You may bring 
Abdul, too, for I don’t object to monkeys, and I 
want to hear all about how you have happened to 
come to Portsmouth.” 



Pepita blushed more than ever, and her eyes drooped 

Page 197. 



























CHAPTER XI 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 

P EPITA hesitated and glanced doubtfully 
from the pretty young lady to her father. 
“ I think, perhaps, I must go back, ,, she 
said. “ I have been away a long time, and my aunt 
may wake and be frightened. You surely do not 
want to buy my Abdul ? ” 

“ I am afraid not,” the old gentleman answered 
smiling, “ but you need not worry about going home. 
I am going to telephone your aunt that you are all 
right here with us. We are old friends of your 
family. I am Dr. Dale, and this lady is my daugh¬ 
ter, Amy.” 

Pepita had never heard of Dr. Dale, but she had 
already taken a fancy to his pretty daughter, so she 
made no further objections, and, having returned 
Abdul to his basket, prepared to follow the young 
lady into the hotel. 

Miss Dale led the way up-stairs to a pleasant 
room on the second floor, looking out on the sea. 

“ Now,” she said, seating herself in the big wicker 

chair by the open window, and motioning to Pepita 

199 


200 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


to take the low rocker, “ we are going to have a nice 
talk. I am so anxious to hear all about your com¬ 
ing from Spain. Your father is one of my very 
best friends, and I want to have his little girl for a 
friend, too.” 

Pepita flushed with pleasure. 

“ Indeed, madame, I should be very proud to be 
the friend of such a kind lady,” she said in her 
pretty, quaint English. “ I do not know my father 
well, but I had a letter from him this morning. 
Perhaps you would like to read it.” 

Miss Dale said she would like it very much, and 
Pepita produced the still unopened letter which had 
by this time become rather crushed, through being 
squeezed into a very small pocket. 

“ Why, you haven’t read it yourself,” exclaimed 
the young lady in surprise. 

“ Oh, madame, that is only because I cannot read 
the writing. I was waiting for my aunt to read it 
to me.” 

There was a rather odd expression in Miss Dale’s 
eyes, as she glanced from Pepita’s serious little face 
to the open letter in her hand. 

“ Shall I read it to you ? ” she asked. “ I know 
the writing is rather difficult, but I am accustomed 
to reading it.” 

“ If you would be so kind,” said Pepita, “ I 
should be very thankful to you.” 

So Miss Dale opened the letter and began to read. 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 201 


Her reading was quite a revelation to Pepita. 
Aunt Dolores had sometimes spent hours in deci¬ 
phering her brother-in-law’s letters, and even then 
had been obliged to skip some of the long sentences, 
but Miss Dale read with as much ease as if the letter 
had been printed. 


“ San Francisco. 

“August First. 

“ My Dear Little Daughter: 

“ By the time this letter reaches you, you 
will have crossed the big ocean and will be in Ports¬ 
mouth with Aunt Jane. How I wish I could be 
there, too, but it won’t be many more months now 
before I am with you, and that means home for 
good. We are all going to have such glorious times 
together,—you, Aunt Jane, and I,—that it some¬ 
times seems as if I couldn’t wait for December, and 
I feel like crossing off the days and weeks on my 
calendar, as I used to do when I was a boy at board¬ 
ing-school. 

“Aunt Jane has promised to telegraph me the 
moment you arrive, and I shall be so happy to know 
that my little girl is safe on this side of the At¬ 
lantic. I know Aunt Jane will love you, and you 
must love her, too, but be sure to keep a little place 
in your heart for your old daddy, who is just long¬ 
ing to give you the biggest hug you ever had in your 
life. 

“ Your nice little letter reached me a week or two 
ago. Your English is much improved, and I liked 
what you told me about your cousin Perico. He 
must be a fine chap, and I am glad he is going into 


202 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


the navy. Nothing quite like the sea, I think, but 
then perhaps I am prejudiced. I am afraid you are 
not very fond of letter-writing, and I am going to 
let you into a little secret: I am not fond of it 
either. It doesn’t seem as if we had very much to 
say to each other in letters, does it ? I think it must 
be because we haven’t met in such a long time, but 
when we do meet—which is going to be very soon 
now, thank God—we shall have so much to talk 
about that we shall never want to stop. 

“ I wonder what you are doing at this moment, 
while I am sitting here in my cabin, and the sun is 
just setting over the beautiful harbor. Perhaps you 
are in your cabin, too, but I hope you are not sea¬ 
sick. I am sure Captain Pool and his wife are good 
to you, for they are dear people, and the captain and 
I have been friends for years. 

“ I must stop writing, for I am due at a big 
dinner-party in San Francisco this evening, and it is 
time to dress. San Francisco is a nice place, but no 
town on earth quite comes up to dear old Ports¬ 
mouth, in my opinion at least. I hope you will grow 
to love it, too, in time, but of course it must seem 
very different from Seville. I am afraid you may 
be a little homesick at first, and perhaps find some of 
our American ways hard to understand. You must 
never forget your dear Aunt Dolores, or any of your 
Spanish relations, for they have been very good to 
you, and some day you and I will run over to Se¬ 
ville, and make them a visit. So cheer up, my little 
Pepita, and be as happy as you can. Give heaps of 
love to Aunt Jane, and with a heart full for your¬ 
self, believe me, 

“ Your Affectionate Father." 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 203 


Miss Dale glanced up from the letter with a smile. 
To her surprise, she saw that Pepita’s eyes were full 
of tears. 

“ That is a very beautiful letter,” said the little 
girl softly. “ I did not know that my father wrote 
like that.” 

“ But surely he writes to you often,” said Miss 
Dale, looking puzzled. 

“ Yes, but Aunt Dolores could never read all he 
said. She does not understand the English, so my 
father always wrote in Spanish, and I do not think 
he knows our language very well. He wrote me an 
English letter last Christmas, but Mrs. O’Dowd— 
she was my governess-—could not read the writing, 
so we had to put it away. I did not tell my father 
we could not read his letters; Aunt Dolores said it 
would not be polite.” 

“ I see,” said Miss Dale, and she looked as if 
something amused her very much. “ I can’t quite 
picture the kind of letter your father would write 
in Spanish. But this one sounds just like him. He 
loves you very dearly, Pepita; he is always talking 
about you in his letters.” 

Pepita looked very much impressed. 

“ I am glad he loves me,” she said. “ I should 
like to love him, too, but I do not know him well. 
I was but seven when he came to Seville, and soon 
I shall be twelve.” 

“ I know, dear, but you will soon know him, and 


204 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


love him dearly, too. Now tell me, wasn’t your 
coming to America rather sudden? Miss Haw¬ 
thorn said nothing to me about it when I saw her in 
June, and neither did your father mention it in his 
last letter.” 

“ I think perhaps it was sudden,” Pepita admitted. 
“We were all going to San Sebastian, and then a 
letter came from my father, that said I must go at 
once to America on Captain Pool’s ship. I did not 
want to leave Aunt Dolores and Ines, and I was 
very unhappy, but America is not as bad a place as 
I thought. My Aunt Jane is kind, and you tell me 
my father will love me.” 

“ You dear kiddie,” exclaimed Miss Dale, and 
with a sudden impulse she drew Pepita to her and 
kissed her. 

“ Thank you, madame,” said Pepita, quite flut¬ 
tered by the unexpected caress; “ you are very good 
to me.” 

“ Oh, don’t call me ‘ madame,’ ” cried Miss Dale 
laughing; “it sounds so ridiculous. Call me Aunt 
Amy; all my friends’ children do, and I like it so 
much better.” 

“ Oh, madame, do you really wish me to call you 
Aunt ? It seems strange, when I know you so little, 
but I should be very glad to do it.” 

“ Of course I wish it, you funny little thing,” 
laughed Miss Dale. “ I am your Aunt Amy from 
now on, so that is settled. And now suppose you 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 205 

let Abdul out of his basket. It must be rather un¬ 
comfortable for him to be cramped up in such a 
small space. We must get a nice big cage for him 
to live in. Do you think he would be willing to sit 
in my lap while we talk? ” 

“ I think he should be much honored,” said Pe- 
pita, and she flew to release her pet. “ He almost 
always does what I tell him, but he does not under¬ 
stand the English yet. I shall have to explain to 
him in Spanish. Abdul,” she added, in her own 
language, “ will you sit in the kind lady’s lap and 
let her scratch your head and stroke your fur? ” 
Abdul cocked his head on one side, looked up into 
his little mistress’ face, and uttered a contented 
grunt. In another moment he was settled com¬ 
fortably on Miss Dale’s lap. 

“ He likes you,” cried Pepita with sparkling eyes. 
“ He only stays with people he likes. Is he not a 
clever little monkey ? ” 

“ He is indeed,” Miss Dale declared, “ and yet 
you were willing to sell him.” 

“ Oh, but I did not wish to sell him,” protested 
Pepita, her lip beginning to tremble. “ It was only 
that I must have the money to send that poor little 
Jeemy to the hospital. Do you think that Aunt 
Jane would be displeased that I sell Abdul? ” 

“ I am afraid she wouldn’t like it at all,” Miss 
Dale answered, so decidedly that Pepita’s heart sank. 
“ We must find some better way of helping Jimmy. 


206 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


My father is a doctor, and we will ask him to go to 
see the little boy. Now I want you to tell me all 
about your home in Seville.” 

The hour that followed was the happiest that 
Pepita had known since leaving home. Miss Dale 
was one of those rare, understanding people, loved 
by all children, and a few kindly, tactful questions 
were enough to win the child’s confidence. Pepita 
was soon chattering away to this new friend as if 
she had known her all her life. And Miss Dale 
listened and sympathized, sometimes smiling, some¬ 
times grave. She heard not only about Aunt Do¬ 
lores, Uncle Miguel, Perico, and Ines, but about the 
voyage and the Sunday afternoon at the parsonage. 
She also heard of the visit to the Callahans, and the 
events which had led up to that morning’s adven¬ 
ture. 

At last the small travelling-clock on Miss Dale’s 
bureau struck twelve, and Pepita sprang to her feet 
with an exclamation of dismay. 

“ I must go at once,” she said. “ My aunt does 
not like that people should be late for dinner. I 
should not have stayed so long.” 

“ But you are not to go home by yourself,” said 
Miss Dale smiling. “ My father has telephoned 
your aunt that we will take care of you. How 
would you like to stay to luncheon with us ? I have 
to go in to Portsmouth this afternoon, and can 
easily leave you at your aunt’s. You see, our house 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 20J 

is right opposite hers, but it is shut up now, because 
my father has come out here for the summer, to 
take care of any sick people there may be at the 
beach.” 

“ I should like very much to stay with you,” said 
Pepita; “ but are you sure my aunt will not be dis¬ 
pleased? ” 

“ Quite sure. Miss Hawthorn and I are very 
good friends, and 1 know she will have no objection 
to my keeping you a little longer. So now suppose 
we go down to the beach to watch the bathers. 
Perhaps you would like to go in for a swim your¬ 
self. I think I can get you a suit.” 

“ Oh, that would be too, too wonderful,” cried 
Pepita rapturously. “ I have not been in the sea 
since we were at San Sebastian last summer, and 
Perico taught me to swim.” 

It was after three o’clock, and Miss Hawthorn, 
down-stairs for the first time that cfay, was lying on 
the library sofa, trying to read. But though her 
book was interesting, and her head had stopped ach¬ 
ing, she found some difficulty in fixing her thoughts 
on the printed page before her. Every few mo¬ 
ments her eyes would wander anxiously to the clock 
on the mantel, and at last she laid down her book 
with a sigh, and gave herself up to troubled reflec¬ 
tions. 

A ring at the door-bell brought these reflections 


208 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


to a close, and in another moment Miss Dale came 
into the room. 

“ Where is Pepita ? ” demanded Miss Hawthorn, 
springing to her feet. “ Oh, Amy, you haven’t 
come to tell me something has happened to the 
child? ” 

“ Pepita has taken her monkey to the bam,” Miss 
Dale answered. She was looking very cool and 
comfortable in her pretty white muslin, and she 
smiled so reassuringly, as she kissed her old friend, 
that Miss Hawthorn sank back on the sofa with an 
expression of intense relief. 

“ Oh, my dear,” she murmured helplessly, “ what 
am I to do ? I am not a fit person to even attempt 
to bring up a child, and she is so—so different from 
other children.” 

Pepita’s heart was beating rather fast, when, some 
five minutes later, she found herself standing in the 
front hall, outside the library door. Aunt Jane was 
still on the sofa, and Pepita could see that her face 
was flushed and troubled. Miss Dale was sitting 
beside her, holding her hand and talking low and 
earnestly. It was Miss Dale who was the first to 
catch sight of the hesitating little figure in the door¬ 
way. 

“ Come in, Pepita dear,” she said cheerfully. “ I 
have been explaining things a little to your aunt.” 

Pepita advanced into the room, and, to the 
astonishment of both ladies, suddenly dropped on 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 209 


her knees by the sofa, and seized Miss Hawthorn’s 
disengaged hand. 

“ Dear Aunt Jane,” she said pleadingly, “ I am 
very sorry to have done so many wrong things, but 
I did not know they were wrong. Miss Dale has 
explained, and I will never go out again without 
asking permission, or try to sell Abdul, even if he 
must always live in a stable. I do not understand 
the American ways, but I will try to be good, and 
not give you trouble.” And before Miss Hawthorn 
could prevent her, Pepita had lifted her aunt’s hand 
to her lips and kissed it. 

“ Oh, Pepita, please get up, get up right away,” 
gasped poor Aunt Jane, who was actually blushing. 
“ Little girls mustn’t get down on their knees like 
that. I am sure you didn’t mean to do wrong, dear, 
but you must never, never do such a dreadful thing 
again. If I hadn’t slept all the morning and known 
nothing till Dr. Dale’s message came, I should have 
been frightened to death about you. Then, to think 
of trying to sell your monkey! Oh, my dear child, 
it really was too awful. Now run up-stairs and put 
away your hat. I want to talk to Miss Dale.” 

Pepita rose obediently, and, going over to the 
visitor, put up her face for a kiss. 

“ I love you,” she said simply. “ You have given 
me great happiness, and I hope I shall soon see you 
again.” 

‘‘You surely will, dear,” Miss Dale answered, 


210 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


kissing her heartily, and Pepita went away to her 
room with a lightened heart. 

“ Aunt Jane,” said Pepita, coming into the library 
an hour later, “ would there be any objection if I 
visit the attic ? ” 

Miss Dale had gone, and Miss Hawthorn had 
turned back to her sofa and her book, but this time 
she looked up with a smile. 

“ Certainly you may go up to the attic if you like,” 
she said; “ but why do you want to go ? You didn’t 
seem interested in going over the house when I 
proposed it the other day.” 

“ I did not know about the attic then,” said Pe¬ 
pita. “ Miss Dale has told me about it, and how she 
and my father used to play there when it rained. 
They once hid a little boy there all night, because 
his father was wicked and wanted to beat him. We 
do not have an attic at home. I should very much 
like to see one.” 

Miss Hawthorn rose. 

“ I will go with you,” she said. “ I haven’t been 
up there myself since the spring cleaning. My head 
is better, so I may as well have a look around to see 
if everything is right.” 

Five minutes later Pepita and her aunt were 
standing in the big, open attic, and the little Spanish 
girl was gazing about her in genuine astonishment. 

“ I never saw a place like this before,” she said. 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 211 


“ It must be very pleasant here when it rains, and 
one can hear the drops on the roof. Miss Dale 
says my father used to invent wonderful stories 
when they played here. They would sit on a trunk, 
and he would talk, and she would listen. Once they 
wrote a story together, and sent it to a magazine, 
but the magazine people would not print it. Pardon 
me, but are all those boxes full of things ? ” 

“ Most of them are,” her aunt answered, not 
without some pride in her tone. “ I have a good 
many interesting old relics packed away here. I 
will show you some of them the next time I go over 
my boxes. You might be interested in seeing your 
Grandmother Hawthorn’s wedding dress and 
slippers.” 

“ I should very much like to see them,” Pepita 
assured her politely. “ Was it on that bed the little 
boy slept the night my father and Aunt Amy hid 
him from his wicked father?” 

“ I dare say, though I have forgotten most of the 
circumstances. I was away on a visit when it hap¬ 
pened, or such a piece of mischief would never have 
been allowed. However, I believe it turned out 
that the boy’s father was really a bad character, and 
the little fellow was afterwards taken away and 
placed in an institution. There’s the door-bell. I 
think I will go down; it may be a visitor.” 

“ May I stay here a little while? I think an attic 
is a very curious place.” 


212 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Oh, certainly, dear, stay as long as you like, 
only when you come down, don’t forget to close the 
door at the foot of the attic stairs.” And Miss 
Hawthorn hurried away, leaving her niece to follow 
at her leisure. 

Pepita walked about, inspecting the many curious 
articles with which the attic was filled, and was 
deep in the inspection of an old-fashioned warming- 
pan, when she heard the sound of approaching foot¬ 
steps, and in another moment Isabel Houghton 
came running up the stairs. 

“ Your aunt told me you were up here,” she an¬ 
nounced in her bright, friendly way, “ and I asked 
her if I might come up, too. My, what a grand 
place this would be to play in. There must be lots 
of interesting old clothes in all those trunks. I 
wonder if Miss Hawthorn would let us dress up 
sometime.” 

At sight of Isabel’s round, merry face, Pepita 
hurried forward with a welcoming smile. 

“ I am so glad that you have come to visit me,” 
she said, holding out her hand in her pretty foreign 
way. “ I was afraid perhaps your mother would 
not permit that you should come.” 

“ Why not? ” inquired Isabel bluntly. 

“ Because of my dancing yesterday,” said Pepita 
blushing. “ A very kind lady—her name is Miss 
Dale, but I am to call her Aunt Amy—has explained 
many things to me to-day. I know now that it is 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 213 

not the proper thing to dance on Sunday in 
America.” 

• “Oh, do you know Miss Dale?” exclaimed 
Isabel. “Isn't she a darling? She’s my Sunday- 
school teacher, and I just adore her. Where did 
you meet her? The Dales don’t stay here in sum¬ 
mer. Dr. Dale practises over in Rye.” 

“ I have been to Rye,” said Pepita. “ I went 
there this morning, and I, too, love Miss Dale. 
The reason I am to call her Aunt Amy is that she 
and my father played together when they were 
children, and I think she loves him very much. 
Once they hid a little boy in this attic. If you will 
sit on one of those boxes, I will tell you about it; 
it is very interesting. Or would you, perhaps, pre¬ 
fer to go down-stairs where there are chairs ? ” 

“ Oh, I’d much rather stay here,” declared 
Isabel, promptly seating herself on one of the old 
haircloth trunks. “ I’d love to hear that story, but 
first I want to tell you what I came about. I’ve 
told your aunt already, and she says it’s all right. 
Mother’s going to let me have a party to-morrow 
afternoon, especially for you.” 

“A party for me?” cried Pepita. “Oh, your 
mother must be indeed a kind lady, but why for 
me? ” 

“ So you can meet the girls, and they can get to 
know you. Mother says I may ask twelve, and 
you are all to stay to supper. I’m going to ask all 


214 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


my best friends. They’re nearly all in my class, and, 
of course, you will be going to school with us next 
winter.” 

Pepita looked a little troubled. 

“ I have never been to a school,” she said. “ Ines 
and I have always had a governess. I think I 
should be afraid to recite lessons before so many 
people.” 

“ Oh, no, you wouldn’t,” Isabel assured her. 
“ Miss Norton, our teacher, is a dear, and nobody 
is a bit afraid of her. Besides, we’re none of us 
very clever except Agnes, and even she makes mis¬ 
takes sometimes.” 

At the mention of Agnes, Pepita’s cheeks grew 
suddenly pink. 

“ I am afraid Agnes will not be permitted to 
speak to me again,” she said sadly. “ Her mother 
was so very angry yesterday. I thought she had 
insulted me, but Aunt Amy says she did not mean 
it for an insult.” 

“ Of course she didn’t,” said Isabel. “ I told 
you Mrs. Flemming was all right, even if she has a 
temper. She came over to our house this morning, 
and I heard her tell Mother she was afraid she had 
been too severe with you yesterday, because you 
didn’t know the customs here. Agnes is coming to 
my party, and she says her mother may let her give 
one herself next week.” 

Pepita gave a long sigh of intense relief. 


MISS DALE SETTLES DIFFICULTIES 21 5 

“ I am very glad,” she said. “ I will try to learn 
your customs, for I do not wish to be called a 
heathen. That is what Mrs. Lewis called me, and 
it means not a Christian. I want to be a Christian 
always, but I think Christians in America have dif¬ 
ferent ideas of what is wrong from those in Spain, 
so if I make some mistakes at first will you please 
try to be a little patient with me?” 

Pepita spoke so earnestly, and there was such a 
tremor in her voice, that kind-hearted Isabel was 
suddenly impelled to give her a kiss. 

“ You are a darling,” she declared, “ and I don’t 
care how many mistakes you make. You’re going 
to be a great favorite with every one, I know, and 
so is Abdul. You must be sure to bring Abdul to 
the party. Mother’s crazy to see him, and so are 
all my friends.” 

When the two little girls came down from the 
attic, half an hour later, they found Maggie at the 
front door in conversation with a boy, who had just 
deposited a large package on the hall sofa. 

“ It’s for you, Miss Pepita,” the maid said, glanc¬ 
ing at the package and closing the door, as the boy 
ran down the steps whistling. 

“For me?” repeated Pepita incredulously. 
“ Oh, no, Maggie, I think you make a mistake. I 
have not bought anything.” 

“ It’s got your name on it,” announced Isabel. 
“ See here, ‘ Miss Pepita Hawthorn/ as plain as 


2l6 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


can be. Shan't we open it and find out what it 
is?” 

Pepita flew to assist at the opening, and when 
the wrappings were removed, revealing a large cage, 
she uttered a little cry of delight. 

“ It is for Abdul,” she exclaimed. “ Aunt Amy 
said he would be more comfortable in a cage, be¬ 
cause then he need not live in the stable. I did 
not know she would send one, but she is very, very 
kind.” 

“ I know all about that cage, Pepita,” said Miss 
Hawthorn, coming out into the hall from the 
library. “ It is for your monkey. Miss Dale 
thought you would be happier if you could have the 
animal in your room, and I told her I would give 
my consent, provided you agreed to keep the cage 
door closed and never allow him to run about the 
house.” 

“ Oh, Aunt Jane! ” That was all Pepita said, 
but the look she gave her aunt was so grateful that 
Miss Hawthorn needed no further thanks. In an¬ 
other moment the two children were on their way 
to the bam, carrying Abdul’s new home between 
them. 





CHAPTER XII 

NEWS FROM SEVILLE 


M 


A 


UNT JANE, oh, Aunt Jane, isn’t it 
beautiful! ” 

Miss Hawthorn looked up from her 
knitting with a smile, as Pepita, her cheeks flushed, 
her eyes dancing with excitement, came bounding 
into the library one day in early December. 

“ What are you talking about, dear? I don’t see 
anything beautiful.” And Aunt Jane glanced from 
her excited little niece to the various familar objects 
about her. 

“ Why, Aunt Jane, the snow. Haven’t you 
looked out of the window? It has been snowing 
since eleven o’clock, and the ground is all white. 
It was so wonderful walking home from school. 
The snowflakes felt so soft and cold. See, my 
coat is quite covered with them.” 

“ Good gracious, child, so it is. You should have 
shaken it before you came in. Run right up-stairs 
and get off those wet things; and be sure to change 
your boots,—they must be wet through. I called 
after you to put on your rubbers, for I felt sure it 
would snow before you got home, but you didn’t 
hear me.” 


217 


218 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“No, I did not hear; but, Aunt Jane, don’t you 
think the snow beautiful?” 

“ I am afraid I have never thought much about 
it,” her aunt admitted. “ You see, I am more ac¬ 
customed to snowstorms than you are. But you 
really must hurry, dear, or you will be late for 
dinner. It’s twenty-five minutes past one already. 
By the way, there’s a letter for you on the table. 
I think it’s from your Aunt Dolores. At any rate, 
it is from Seville.” 

Pepita uttered a joyful exclamation and made a 
dash for the table. Aunt Dolores was not a good 
correspondent, and it was more than a month since 
the little girl had heard from her Spanish home. 

“ Don’t stop to open it now,” Aunt Jane remon¬ 
strated. “ There isn’t time before dinner. You 
can read it at the table if you like.” 

“ I wonder if Aunt Jane would worry about 
being late for pinner if the house were on fire,” re¬ 
flected Pepita, as she ran up to her room to change 
her wet boots. She had grown very fond of her aunt 
during the four months she had spent in Ports¬ 
mouth, but there were still some things about Miss 
Hawthorn which her little niece found hard to 
understand. But, on the whole, those four months 
had been happy ones. Portsmouth had proved a 
much pleasanter place than Pepita had thought it 
at first, and she had made more friends than ever 
before in her life. She loved Aunt Amy Dale and 


NEWS FROM SEVILLE 


2ig 


Isabel dearly, and she had grown to like a good 
many other people very much, as well. She even 
liked school, and was making good progress with 
her lessons. Only the day before, Miss Norton, 
the teacher, had called on Aunt Jane to express her 
satisfaction with Pepita’s work. Pepita talked 
English as fluently as any American girl now, and 
rarely made a mistake in grammar. She had 
almost lost the funny little Irish accent which had 
so distressed her aunt on her first arrival. Her 
knowledge of French caused great admiration 
among her schoolmates, and she had more than 
once been appealed to for help in a difficult exercise. 
But though she was happy, and had joined heartily 
in the interests and amusements of her new friends, 
Pepita had never for a moment forgotten her 
Spanish home, or the dear people there, and the 
knowledge that a letter from Seville was awaiting 
her down-stairs, caused her heart to beat rather fast 
as she made her hasty preparations for dinner. 
She scarcely even paused for a word with Abdul, 
who greeted her with a joyful squeak from his cage 
in the window. 

“ There is a letter from Aunt Dolores, Abdul,” 
she told the monkey, as she smoothed her tumbled 
hair. “ I haven’t a minute to spare, but after 
dinner I will take you out for a good romp in the 
snow, before I go over to Isabel’s to make Christ¬ 
mas presents.” 


220 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Abdul was evidently satisfied with this expla¬ 
nation, for, with a contented little grunt, he pro¬ 
ceeded to swing head downwards from his perch. 
Notwithstanding her haste, the clock was striking 
half-past one as Pepita ran down the stairs, and 
Miss Hawthorn was already on her way to the 
dining-room. 

“ Did you change your boots, dear ? ” she inquired 
anxiously. 

“ Yes, Aunt Jane, and I hung my coat on a chair 
by the register, as you told me to when it was wet. 
May I get my letter before we sit down? ” 

“ I have it. I knew you would want it. Better 
take your soup while it is hot, and you can read 
your letter while Maggie is changing the plates and 
carving. Half-past one is rather late for dinner, 
and I like to get through as soon as possible. I 
have always dined at one till this autumn.” 

“ I’m sorry you had to change for me,” said 
Pepita regretfully, “ but school isn't over till 
quarter past.” 

“ Oh, it really doesn’t make much difference. I 
am getting accustomed to the change, and it is very 
pleasant to have a companion at the table. I never 
seemed to realize it before, but it was rather lonely 
having so many meals by myself.” 

Pepita looked pleased. This was not the first 
time that her aunt had made some remark that 
showed she was enjoying her little niece’s society. 


NEWS FROM SEVILLE 


221 


But the thought of the unopened letter was still 
uppermost in her mind, and she swallowed her soup 
rather faster than is considered good manners. 
Her plate was empty long before Miss Hawthorn 
had finished her own portion, and in another 
moment she was deep in the contents of Aunt 
Dolores’ letter. 

“ May I read it to you, Aunt Jane? ” she inquired 
eagerly, looking up from the first page. “ Oh, I 
forgot; you don’t understand Spanish.” 

“ You may tell me what it is about,” her aunt 
answered good-naturedly. “ That will do just as 
well, won’t it? ” 

“ I will translate,” said Pepita. “ In the first 
place, Aunt Dolores says Ines has had the measles, 
but is well again. She cannot write yet, because 
of her eyes, but she sends her love.” 

Pepita proceeded to read the next paragraph, and 
then announced: “ Our French maid is going to be 
married, and Agustina, Rafaelo’s sister, is coming 
to be maid instead. Aunt Dolores is giving Annette 
her wedding dress. She thinks very well of the 
young man.” 

Another pause while Pepita made herself 
acquainted with the further contents of her letter, 
and then came a joyful exclamation. 

“ Well, what is it now? ” Aunt Jane asked. She 
had not found the news about Annette and her 
wedding dress particularly interesting. 


222 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ It is about Perico,” cried Pepita, looking up 
with sparkling eyes. “ He writes that his ship has 
been ordered to America. He may come to see 
me.” 

“ America is a pretty big place,” Miss Hawthorn 
remarked smiling. “ Does your aunt say what part 
of America the ship is coming to? ” 

“ No, she only says America, but it might be this 
part, might it not, Aunt Jane? There was a big 
battleship in the harbor last week. Do Spanish 
ships ever come to Portsmouth ? ” 

“ They did in the Spanish-American War,” said 
Aunt Jane, with a rather grim smile. “ I don’t 
think I have heard of any being here lately. They 
may come in to New York, though, and if your 
cousin can get leave to make you a visit, we shall 
be very glad to see him.” 

“ You are very kind,” said Pepita, flushing with 
pleasure. “ I should love to have you see Perico; 
he is so handsome, and has such beautiful manners. 
He is not at all like the American boys. Isabel’s 
brothers are very good boys, I suppose, but they 
are sometimes not at all polite. When Isabel asked 
her brother Horace to bring her overshoes down¬ 
stairs, he told her to go and get them herself. I 
thought him very rude, but Isabel didn’t seem to 
mind. She just threw a feather pillow at him and 
went for the overshoes. If Perico had spoken to 
Ines or me like that, Uncle Miguel would have been 


NEWS FROM SEVILLE 223 

very much displeased. Oh, I hope Perico will 
come to see me, but I do not think the people at 
home realize what a very big country America is. 
Ines read about the Capitol in Washington, and she 
thought I had seen it. Agnes says it would take 
a whole day in the train to reach Washington.” 

“ I have never been to Washington myself,” said 
Miss Hawthorn. “ Perhaps your father will take 
us somewhere on a trip next summer. He may 
want to have you see something of your own 
country.” 

Pepita looked pleased. 

“ I like to travel,” she said. “ Aunt Jane, I wish 
my father would come home soon.” 

“ So do I, dear, and I can’t quite understand why 
we haven’t had a letter telling us when to expect 
him. Christmas is only three weeks off, and he 
promised to be at home by then.” 

“ It will be a great relief when he has come,” 
said Pepita, with a sigh. “ It makes one very un¬ 
comfortable to think of meeting a father one does 
not know. His letters are very kind, and I enjoy 
them now that I can read the writing, but having 
letters from a person isn’t the same thing as seeing 
him, is it? I think Aunt Amy will be very happy 
when my father comes home.” 

Miss Hawthorn looked up rather sharply. 

“ What makes you think that ? ” she inquired. 

“ Because she so often talks of him, and has his 


224 


PUZZLING PE PITA 


photograph in a locket. She keeps the locket in her 
jewel-box, but I saw it once when she let me look 
at her things. When I showed it to her, and asked 
if it were not my father’s picture, she said yes, and 
then she grew so red and looked so pretty that I 
wanted to give her a kiss.” 

Miss Hawthorn said nothing, and Pepita went 
back to her letter; but if she had not been so much 
absorbed in the news from Seville, she might have 
noticed that Aunt Jane was smiling as if something 
pleased her very much. 

“ And now I suppose you are going to the 
Houghtons’,” Miss Hawthorn remarked, as they 
rose from the dinner-table. “ It is Friday, so you 
will have no lessons to prepare for to-morrow, but 
be sure to come home before dark. Mrs. Lewis 
telephoned this morning to ask if I would take sup¬ 
per with her this evening, and go to the lecture 
afterwards, so I am afraid you may have a lonely 
evening.” 

“ Oh, I shall not mind,” said Pepita cheerfully. 
“ I will read ‘ David Copperfield.’ I do love that 
book, now that I do not have to stop to look up so 
many words in the dictionary. May I go right 
away, Aunt Jane? I am longing to be out again 
in that beautiful snow.” 

Miss Hawthorn gave a ready consent, and Pepita 
hurried away up-stairs, and five minutes later was 
giving Abdul his promised romp in the snow. 


NEWS FROM SEVILLE 


225 


When she was left alone, Miss Hawthorn stood 
for several minutes, looking thoughtfully into the 
fire. 

“ I wonder if there is really anything in it,” she 
said to herself. “ Well, if it is to be some one, I 
would rather have Amy Dale than any one I know, 
and Pepita is fond of her, too. I suppose my 
brother wants a home again.” 

Pepita and Isabel had become fast friends, and 
as she hurried along the snow-covered street, while 
the cold, soft flakes pelted her face, Pepita thought 
happily of the pleasant afternoon she was going to 
have. Isabel was the only girl in a family of four, 
and, although a general favorite, she had not had 
any one particular chum until Pepita’s arrival. 
She had taken at once to the little Spanish girl, 
whose ways were so different from those of any 
one she had ever known; and Pepita, whose lonely 
little heart was longing for sympathy, was quite 
ready to respond to Isabel’s friendly advances. 
Mrs. Houghton had been charmed by Pepita’s 
pretty foreign manners, and under her encourage¬ 
ment the friendship had ripened so quickly, that by 
the time school opened in September, the two girls 
considered themselves chums. Now it was De¬ 
cember, and the making of Christmas presents was 
the order of the day. Pepita was carrying her 
knitting-bag, and was looking forward to a cozy 
afternoon by the Are in the Houghtons’ sitting- 


226 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


room, where Mrs. Houghton had promised to read 
aloud to the girls as they worked. 

There was a cab standing before the Houghtons’ 
house, and as Pepita mounted the steps, the front 
door opened, and Mr. Houghton, wearing a fur 
coat and carrying a suit-case, came out. Mrs. 
Houghton and Isabel were standing in the hall, and 
were evidently bidding him good-by. 

“ I do hope you will be able to get back by Mon¬ 
day, John,” Isabel’s mother was saying, as Pepita 
joined the group. “ We shall miss you dread¬ 
fully.” 

“ It won’t be my fault if I am not,” her husband 
answered laughing. “ When it comes to the ques¬ 
tion of missing, I rather think I shall have the worst 
of it, alone in a New York hotel. Give me another 
kiss, Isabel. Remember you won’t see your old 
dad for at least three whole days.” 

Isabel’s arms were round her father’s neck before 
he had finished speaking, and she was giving him a 
hug that fairly took away his breath. 

“ You precious daddy,” she cried, “ as if I could 
ever give you enough kisses. Mind you come home 
on Monday, or Mother and I will have to go all the 
way to New York to look for you.” 

And then Mr. Houghton hurried away to the 
waiting cab as Mrs. Houghton closed the front 
door, and turned to greet Pepita, who had been 
watching the little scene with deep interest. 


NEWS FROM SEVILLE 


227 


“ You love your father very much, don’t you, 
Isabel?” she said abruptly, as she stood warming 
her hands before the sitting-room fire. The little 
girls were alone, Mrs. Houghton having gone to 
the kitchen to speak to one of the maids. 

“ Of course I do,” said Isabel, very much sur¬ 
prised by the question. “ People always love their 
fathers and mothers, though I don’t believe many 
fathers are as nice as Daddy.” 

Pepita sighed. 

“ I wish my father could come home,” she re¬ 
marked for the second time that day. “ It will be 
so much more comfortable when it is over.” 

“ When what is over? ” inquired Isabel curiously. 

“ The meeting,” said Pepita. “ I think the first 
meeting with a strange father must be very em¬ 
barrassing. What shall I say to him ? ” 

“ Don’t say anything,” Isabel advised; “ just give 
him a hug.” 

“A hug?” repeated Pepita in a tone of such 
horror that Isabel burst out laughing. “ Why, 
Isabel, I could not do such a thing; it would not be 
at all respectful. One does not hug a strange gen¬ 
tleman, even if he is one’s father. I have thought 
a great deal about what I shall say. I think of it 
sometimes in the night. Would it do to kiss his 
hand and say, 4 Welcome home, dear Father ’ ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” Isabel admitted, looking rather 
doubtful. “ It might be all right, but it sounds 


228 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


rather funny. I can’t possibly imagine saying, 
‘ Welcome home, dear Father ’ to Daddy; but then, 
of course, foreigners are different.” 

“ How different ? ” inquired Pepita, who did not 
altogether like the suggestion. 

“ Oh, I don’t know exactly; more—more senti¬ 
mental, perhaps.” 

“ I do not wish to be sentimental,” protested Pe¬ 
pita reddening. “ I do not wish to say anything to 
my father that is foolish.” 

“ Of course you don’t,” said Isabel laughing. 
“ Here comes Mother; we’ll ask her. Mother 
dear,” she added, as Mrs. Houghton came into the 
room, “ Pepita is worried because she doesn’t know 
what to say to her father when she meets him. Do 
you think, ‘ Welcome home, dear Father ’ would be 
all right?” 

Mrs. Houghton, a bright little woman, with merry 
blue eyes like her daughter’s, smiled. 

“ I think it might sound a little affected,” she 
said. “ I wouldn’t worry, Pepita; I am sure when 
your father comes you will know what to say to him 
without any preparation beforehand. I knew him 
very well before he went away to sea, and I can 
assure you he is not at all a formidable person. In 
fact, he was about the jolliest boy I ever met.” 

Pepita looked immensely relieved. 

“ Perhaps he is like Perico,” she said. “ Perico 
can always make every one laugh. Perico’s ship is 


NEWS FROM SEVILLE 


229 


coming to America. Aunt Dolores thought I might 
see him, but Aunt Jane says Spanish ships do not 
often come to Portsmouth. It may even be South 
America the ship is coming to, and that is thousands 
of miles away/’ 

“ Yes, but it might just as likely be New York,” 
Mrs. Houghton said kindly; “ and then perhaps your 
cousin could get leave to make you a little visit.” 

“ That would be grand,” exclaimed Isabel. “ I 
should love to see Perico; Pve heard so much about 
him. Do you think our boys would get on with 
him, Pepita ? ” 

Pepita looked doubtful. She could not quite 
imagine the haughty, domineering Perico making 
friends with the Houghton boys. 

“ He does not speak English,” she said. “ He 
speaks beautiful French, though. Do you think 
your brothers could talk French with him?” 

“ N-no,” Isabel was forced to confess; “ I’m 
afraid they couldn't. They might use the sign 
language, the way they did with that deaf boy who 
was here last summer, but French—well, I don’t 
believe Perico would understand them very well. 
Now I guess we'd better get to work, if Mother is 
ready to read to us.” 

Pepita smiled, and, opening her bag, produced a 
piece of embroidery so elaborately worked that Mrs. 
Houghton and Isabel both exclaimed in admira¬ 
tion. 


230 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“Did you do that yourself, Pepita?” Isabel’s 
mother asked in surprise. 

“ Oh, yes,” said Pepita; “ I am so glad you like 
it. It is to be an embroidered vest for my father. 
Agnes says all gentlemen like to have embroidered 
vests, and I thought I should make a Christmas 
present for my father. I told Aunt Amy about it, 
and she thought he would be pleased.” 

“ I am sure he will be delighted,” said Mrs. 
Houghton. “ When is your father expected, by the 
way ? ” 

“Aunt Jane thinks he will come before Christ¬ 
mas, but she has not had a letter. She is a little 
anxious, for she fears he may be ill.” 

Pepita spoke so calmly and looked so undisturbed 
at the possibility of her father being ill, that Isabel 
regarded her in astonishment. 

“ Aren’t you anxious, too ? ” she inquired. “ I 
should be dreadfully worried if Daddy were away 
and we didn’t hear from him.” 

Pepita blushed, and her eyes dropped. 

“ But you always loved your daddy,” she pleaded 
faintly, “ and that makes so much difference. Do 
you think it wrong that I do not worry because my 
father has not written to Aunt Jane?” 

Mrs. Houghton could not help laughing, although 
she was rather touched by the earnest appeal in 
Pepita’s voice. 

“ I don’t believe there is any real cause for 


231 


NEWS FROM SEVILLE 

/ 

anxiety, dear,” she said evasively. “Your aunt is 
apt to worry more than is always necessary.” And 
then she changed the subject by opening her book 
and beginning to read. 

The story was interesting, but although Pepita 
had improved so much in her English that she 
seldom found any difficulty in understanding the 
words in a book, her attention wandered a good 
deal that afternoon. Was she very cold and heart¬ 
less, she wondered, that she could not worry so 
much about a father she scarcely remembered?. 
She did not want to be heartless, but if her father 
came home, and she did not like him, or, worse still, 
he did not like her—life was very pleasant and 
comfortable just as it was. A father in the house 
could not help making a great difference. She 
thought of an old story-book Agnes had lent her. 
The name of the heroine was Elsie Dinsmore, and 
her father had come home after years of absence, 
and had at once set about reforming her. Elsie 
had appeared unaccountably fond of him, and been 
very unhappy every time he was displeased, but 
Pepita did not feel that she could truly love a 
father like Mr. Dinsmore. Still, it would be wicked 
not to love one's father. Even Aunt Dolores had 
told her that. It was all very strange and un¬ 
comfortable, and she would be, oh, so thankful 
when that first dreadful meeting was over. Pepita 
checked a rising sigh, and tried to fix her attention 


232 PUZZLING PEPITA 

on the story Mrs. Houghton was reading. But in 
a few minutes her thoughts were wandering again, 
and when, at the end of an hour and a half, Mrs. 
Houghton closed the book, she had but a rather 
confused idea as to what it had all been about. 

Pepita stayed at the Houghtons’ till half-past 
four and then bade her friend good-by, mindful of 
her promise to Aunt Jane not to be out after dark. 
It was still snowing, and the air was very cold, but 
Pepita loved the novel sensation, and, as she 
hurried along in the gathering dusk, her heart grew 
lighter than it had been all the afternoon. 

“ After all,” she told herself reassuringly, “ Aunt 
Jane does not expect my father much before Christ¬ 
mas, and Christmas is not for three more weeks. 
A good many things may happen in three weeks.”- 


CHAPTER XIII 

abdul's party 

I T was such an unusual event for Miss Haw¬ 
thorn to go out for an evening, that the pros¬ 
pect had thrown her into quite a nervous 
flutter. Pepita found her aunt in her room, dress¬ 
ing for the occasion, and her first words were an 
anxious question as to whether the snow had 
ceased. 

“ Oh, no,” Pepita assured her cheerfully, “ it’s 
still snowing beautifully. You will love to go out 
in it.” 

“ Indeed I shall not,” said Miss Hawthorn with 
decision; “ I hate going out in bad weather. I hope 
the pavements are not slippery. I would order a 
cab, but it would not be of much use, as Mrs. Lewis 
is sure to want to walk to the hall. I wish she were 
not quite so economical. You are sure you won't 
mind my leaving you, Pepita? You've hardly had 
a meal by yourself since you came. I have told 
Maggie to open a jar of those tomato preserves you 
liked so much the other night, and you may wind 
up the music-box if you like after supper, only do 
be careful not to wind it too tight. Agnes Flem- 

2 33 


234 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


ming broke the spring once when I let her play 
with it, and I had to send it all the way to Boston 
to be mended. I prize that music-box very highly; 
your grandmother was so fond of the tunes. I re¬ 
member she asked to have it wound up the very 
night she died. I was only a girl myself then, but 
I remember being quite shocked, because of the 
dance music, but our minister said if it gave Mother 
pleasure she was to have it, and it did give her 
pleasure, especially when it played ‘ Coming 
Through the Rye/ which was one of her favorite 
songs. Be sure to see that the front door is locked 
before you go up to bed. I have reminded Maggie, 
but she is apt to forget sometimes. All the lower 
windows are bolted; I attended to them myself. 
Now I think I am ready. O dear! I have forgotten 
to change my boots; this pair don’t look well enough 
for the evening.” 

“ Let me change them for you/’ cried Pepita 
eagerly, and was on her knees in a moment, unbut¬ 
toning her aunt’s boots. “You are very kind to 
let me touch the music-box,” she added gratefully. 
“ I love the funny little tunes. I will be very care¬ 
ful not to do anything wrong, and I will not forget 
about the front door.” 

In course of time Miss Hawthorn was ready, and 
departed, escorted by Maggie, for nothing would 
have induced her to venture out alone after dark. 
Maggie would return to serve supper, and then go 


ABDUL'S PARTY 


235 


for her mistress at the proper time. Left to her¬ 
self, Pepita went to her own room to put away her 
hat and coat and have a little play with Abdul. 

“ I am afraid you have had a lonely day,” she 
said to the monkey, softly scratching one of his 
ears as she spoke. “ It must be very dull to spend 
all day in a cage.” She always spoke to Abdul in 
Spanish, which she fancied the monkey understood 
better than English, and, besides, he was the only 
creature to whom she could talk in the language she 
loved best. 

Abdul responded by a little grunt, and rubbed 
his head lovingly against his mistress’ arm. 

“ I don’t know what I should do without you, 
Abdul,” Pepita went on. “ You seem like a little 
bit of home. I wish I could have you down-stairs 
sometimes, but Aunt Jane says the sight of a 
monkey makes her nervous. She has gone out to¬ 
night, though, and after supper I am going to bring 
you down to the library and we will have some 
music. It isn’t beautiful music, only funny little 
tunes, and they sound rather tinkly, but some of 
them are dance tunes, and, oh, Abdul, we will dance. 
I have not danced since the time I broke the Sab¬ 
bath, and I do long to do it sometimes. We won’t 
shock any one to-night, for there will be nobody to 
see us. Maggie and Ellen never come into the li¬ 
brary, so we shall be quite by ourselves. There, I 
hear Maggie calling me to supper, and how I 


236 PUZZLING PEPITA 

wish I could take you with me. I wonder what 
Maggie would say if I brought you to the 
dining-room. She is very good-natured, and she 
likes you.” 

Abdul looked up into Pepita’s face with such a 
wistful expression in his bright eyes that she gave 
him an impulsive hug. 

“ I believe you hate to go back to your cage,” 
she said with a sigh. “ I know I should if I were 
a monkey. I am afraid I shall have to put you 
back, though, unless-” 

“ Supper’s waiting, Miss Pepita,” came Maggie’s 
voice from the foot of the stairs. 

Pepita stepped out into the hall with Abdul still 
in her arms. 

“ Maggie,” she began coaxingly, “ Maggie, 
dear.” 

“ Yes, Miss Pepita, what is it? ” 

“ Would you mind very much—do you think it 
would be wrong—if I brought Abdul down to have 
supper with me ? ” 

“ Brought the monkey to the table? Oh, Miss 
Pepita, whatever would your aunt say to such a 
thing?” 

But, though Maggie’s words were reproachful, 
she was laughing, and Pepita’s courage rose. 

“ Abdul had all his meals with me on the ship,” 
she pleaded, “ and he really behaves beautifully at 
the table. I know Aunt Jane does not like monkeys, 




ABDUL'S PARTY 


23 7 

but do you think she would mind my having him 
when she is out ? ” 

“ Well, maybe she wouldn’t, and I’d really like 
to see how the little fellow does behave. He’s the 
most human-acting animal I ever saw, anyhow, so 
bring him along if you want to, and I don’t believe 
Miss Hawthorn will mind.” 

Pepita was already halfway down-stairs, and 
three minutes later Abdul was seated at the supper- 
table, with a napkin tied round his neck and a spoon 
between his fingers. He was soon partaking of 
cream toast with as much ease and evidently as 
much pleasure as Pepita herself. Maggie was 
enchanted, and the cook had to be called in from the 
kitchen to witness these unusual proceedings. Pe¬ 
pita was in gay spirits. She had not enjoyed a 
meal so much since she had come to Portsmouth. 

“ He’s just like a human being,” the cook de¬ 
clared in an awed whisper. “ It don’t seem quite 
right. It gives me the creeps, that’s what it does.” 

“ It need not give you the creeps,” Pepita as¬ 
sured her. “ I don’t know what 4 creeps ’ are, but 
there is nothing strange about Abdul. He is well 
trained, that is all. Rafaelo—a Spanish boy I 
know—trained him. Rafaelo is a cripple like 
Jimmy Callahan, only much worse, because he can 
never be well, and Jimmy is getting better at the 
hospital in Boston. Dr. Dale went to see him last 
week, and says he will be quite well by spring.” 


238 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ I know it, dear,” said the cook. “ I saw Mrs. 
Callahan on Sunday and she told me. She cried 
for joy, poor thing, and said it never would have 
happened if it hadn’t been for you. It was you that 
told Dr. Dale about Jimmy, and got him to take an 
interest in the boy.” 

Pepita said nothing, but her face was rather 
grave, and when the cook had gone back to the 
kitchen, and Abdul—having finished his supper— 
had curled himself up for a nap in the armchair, she 
said rather abruptly to Maggie, “ Things are very 
strange, are they not? It is often so hard to know 
what is right and what is wrong. Aunt Jane said it 
was very wrong to go to see Jimmy that night and 
to try to sell Abdul; but if I had not done those 
things, Dr. Dale might never have heard of Jimmy, 
and his mother might never have been able to send 
him to the hospital in Boston. I wish I understood 
things better.” 

Maggie laughed. 

“ I wouldn’t worry,” she said good-naturedly. 
“ I’m sure it wasn’t wrong to try to help poor little 
Jimmy Callahan. Miss Hawthorn’s nervous, but 
she’s got a kind heart, and I guess the Dales thought 
you were all right, or they wouldn’t have been so 
interested and taken all the trouble they did.” 

Pepita’s grave face brightened. 

“ I think I will talk to Aunt Amy about it,” she 
said. “ She understands things better than other 


ABDUL'S PARTY 


239 


people. Perhaps the reason it has come out right 
for Jimmy is because I did not know I was doing 
wrong.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if that was it,” agreed 
Maggie, and then, having supplied all Pepita’s 
wants, she went off to the kitchen to eat her own 
supper. 

Her meal finished, Pepita went into the library, 
carrying Abdul in her arms. 

“ It has been a pleasant change for you, Abdul, 
has it not? ” she said, kissing her pet’s ear, a caress 
which the little monkey reciprocated by lifting a 
tiny hand and stroking his mistress’ cheek. “ You 
have never been in this room before. I don’t sup¬ 
pose you knew there were so many books in any 
room in the world. I wonder if I could teach you 
to read. Dr. Dale says he once saw a monkey who 
could pick out the letters of the alphabet.” 

Abdul chuckled, and, seizing one of Pepita’s long 
curls, gave it a gentle pull. Pepita laughed. 

“ Well, I am not going to teach you any new 
tricks to-night,” she promised, “ for this is your 
party, and you are not going to do anything but 
enjoy yourself. A party by one’s self is not very 
exciting, but you will have to make the best of it. 
Now I am going to put you in this chair, and you 
must keep very still while I wind up the funny old 
music-box, and when it begins to play, we will both 
dance.” 


240 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


The hour that followed was certainly an exciting 
one to Abdul, and almost equally exciting to Pepita. 
It is true that the music-box was old and tinkly, but 
most of the tunes were gay, and what more was 
needed to set little dancing feet in motion? Abdul 
had not forgotten his dancing, much to Pepita’s 
satisfaction, and they both danced until the monkey 
grew tired, when Pepita took him on her shoulder 
and went on dancing herself. 

It was a pretty sight, the graceful little figure 
dancing in the firelight, to the music of the old- 
fashioned tunes; and as she danced Pepita forgot 
her present surroundings, and almost fancied her¬ 
self back in Aunt Dolores’ drawing-room, where 
she and Ines had so often helped to entertain 
Senora Lopez’s visitors. 

Several times the music-box ran down, and had to 
be wound again, and still Pepita was not tired. In¬ 
deed, the longer she danced, the more she enjoyed 
herself. She was so absorbed that she did not hear 
the opening and closing of the front door, or the 
sound of an approaching footstep, and she was in 
the midst of an entrancing waltz, when something, 
she did not know what, caused her to turn her head, 
and the next instant she had come to an abrupt 
standstill. In the doorway, regarding her with a 
very strange look in his eyes, was a tall gentleman, 
whose face seemed oddly familiar. 

“ I—I,” faltered Pepita, her heart beating un- 


ABDUL'S PARTY 


24I 


accountably fast. “Please excuse me; I did not 
hear the bell.” 

“ I didn’t ring,” said the stranger, and, though he 
was smiling, his voice shook a little. “ I just opened 
the door and walked in. Was that a very dreadful 
thing to do ? ” 

“No, oh, no,” Pepita assured him politely; 
“ only—only, people generally ring the bell. I am 
sorry my aunt is out. Did you come to see her? ” 

“ Partly to see her, and partly to see some one 
else.” Pepita’s heart gave one great bound and 
then seemed to stand quite still. 

“Do you—do you mean me?” she gasped. 
“ There isn’t any one else except Maggie and the 
cook.” 

The visitor nodded, and the look in his eyes grew 
very tender. 

“ I have come a long way to see you,” he said. 
“ Don’t you know me, my little Pepita ? ” 

“ Oh,” cried Pepita, clasping her hands; “ you 
are—you must be—my father.” 

Abdul, forgotten for the moment, slipped to the 
floor, where he stood, watching proceedings with 
deep interest. And well he might, for there was his 
little mistress held fast in the arms of a tall stranger, 
who was hug'ging and kissing her, as if he never 
intended to leave off. 

Ten minutes later Pepita was on the sofa beside 
her father, who still kept an arm about her. The 



242 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


little girl was conscious of being strangely happy 
and content, even though her heart still beat much 
faster than usual. 

“ It is very wonderful that you should have come 
to-night,” she said. “ Aunt Jane will be so happy. 
She was worried because she did not have a letter.” 

“ I know I ought to have written,” said Captain 
Hawthorn. “ I might have known Jane would 
worry, but the fact is, I couldn’t resist the tempta¬ 
tion of giving you both a surprise. I knew I wasn’t 
expected for another two or three weeks.” 

“ I am glad you have come,” said Pepita softly; 
“ very glad.” 

Her face was so radiant that her father regarded 
her in some surprise. 

“ My own little Pepita,” he said, kissing her again, 
“ I am so glad you wanted to see me. I hoped you 
would, but I wasn’t quite sure.” 

Pepita blushed and her eyes fell. 

“ I am afraid perhaps I was not as anxious to see 
you as I should have been,” she said truthfully. 
“ You see, I did not know you would be like—like 
what you are. I should not have been afraid, for 
Aunt Amy told me you would love me very much.” 

“ And who is Aunt Amy? ” 

“ Her name is Miss Amy Dale, and she lives with 
her father in the big white house on the other side 
of the street. She has been very kind to me, and I 
love her. She asked me to call her Aunt Amy, and 



Pepita’s heart gave one great bound —Page 241 


























ABDUL'S PARTY 


243 


she has told me many things about you, even more 
than Aunt Jane. I think she is very fond of you.” 

Captain Hawthorn looked as if something had 
pleased him very much. 

“ That is the best news I have heard in a long 
time,” he said; “but I have my doubts as to its 
being true.” 

“ Oh, but it is true,” cried Pepita eagerly. “ She 

has your picture in a locket, and-” But before 

Pepita could complete her sentence, Abdul, who had 
grown tired of being left to himself, caused a diver¬ 
sion by jumping up on Pepita’s shoulder. Of 
course Abdul had to be exhibited, and Captain Haw¬ 
thorn seemed so much interested and asked so many 
questions, that Pepita forgot all about Aunt Amy 
and everything else in describing her pet’s many 
accomplishments. She was quite certain by this 
time that this father of hers was not in the least 
like Mr. Dinsmore. The captain even expressed 
the desire to see Abdul perform some of his tricks, 
and, the music-box having been wound up once 
more, the monkey promptly began to dance. 

The sound of the music reminded Pepita of some¬ 
thing, which, in the excitement of the moment, she 
had quite forgotten, and her cheeks grew suddenly 
crimson. 

“ I hope you were not very much shocked at what 
I was doing when you arrived,” she said in her 
quaint, old-fashioned little way, which her father 



244 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


was already beginning to find very charming. “ You 
see, Aunt Jane has gone out for the evening, and I 
was giving Abdul a little party. Aunt Jane is not 
fond of animals, so Abdul has to live in a cage. I 
used to dance a great deal in Seville, but people here 
do not like dancing, and I had not done it for a long 
time. I thought if no one saw me, and it was not 
the Sabbath, I might dance a little, and so-” 

Pepita paused in some embarrassment and looked 
up pleadingly into the kind eyes that were gazing at 
her so lovingly. Captain Hawthorn laughed. 

“ My dear little girl,” he said, “ do you know, 
when I opened the front door and heard that old 
music-box, I thought it the pleasantest sound I had 
heard in years; and when I looked into this room 
and saw you dancing here in the firelight, I thought 
it just about the prettiest picture I had ever seen in 
my life.” 

“ Oh,” gasped Pepita, and that was all, but her 
radiant face and the look she gave her father were 
quite as satisfactory as any words could have been. 

It was nearly ten o’clock when Maggie brought 
Miss Hawthorn home. When she opened the front 
door and saw the light still burning in the 
library, her first thought was that Pepita had 
forgotten to put it out, and she sighed over the care¬ 
lessness of children who would forget to do what 
they were told. She hurried across the hall, intend¬ 
ing to put out the light herself, but at the library- 



ABDUL'S PARTY 


245 


door she stood transfixed with astonishment. For 
there in the big leather armchair by the fire sat a 
gentleman, and Pepita—actually still up and dressed 
at ten o’clock at night—was sitting on his knee. 
For the first moment she was too much astonished 
to speak, but when the gentleman turned his face 
towards the door, Aunt Jane ran across the room 
with a glad cry of “ Dick, oh, my dear, dear 
boy,” and threw her arms round her brother’s 
neck. 

It was characteristic of Miss Hawthorn that, as 
soon as her first excited greetings to her brother 
were over, she should turn rather reproachfully to 
Pepita. 

“ My dear child,” she began anxiously, “ have 
you any idea what time it is ? You should have been 
in bed an hour ago.” 

Pepita looked a little troubled, but Captain Haw¬ 
thorn only laughed. 

“ Oh, come now, Jane,” he said good-naturedly, 
“ I know you have strict ideas about punctuality, 
and I have no doubt you are right, as a rule, but you 
must remember that I haven’t seen Pepita for nearly 
five years. Don’t you think we should have our 
first evening together, even if it does mean going to 
bed at ten instead of eight? ” 

And the captain’s eyes had such a merry twinkle 
in them that his sister suddenly found herself laugh¬ 
ing. It is even on record that, after Pepita had 


246 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


gone to bed, she forgot all about time for once and 
sat talking with her brother for hours. 

As for Pepita, she had never been so happy in her 
life as she was that night. 

“ I have the most beautiful father in the world,” 
she told Abdul, when she gave him a final hug just 
before getting into bed. “Aunt Amy was quite 
right when she told me I should love him. God has 
been very good to me, Abdul, to give me such a 
father, but I am glad I remembered to put you back 
in your cage before Aunt Jane came home. She 
might have been displeased to find you in the library, 
and I don’t want any one to be displeased or un¬ 
happy to-night.” 


CHAPTER XIV 


BREAKERS AHEAD 

C APTAIN HAWTHORN had been at home 
a week, and it had certainly been the hap¬ 
piest week Pepita had ever spent. She had 
given her whole loving little heart to her father on 
that first evening, and, as the days passed, it seemed 
as if she grew to love him more and more. As to 
the captain himself, he was charmed with his little 
daughter. He loved her pretty foreign ways, and 
laughed over the few mistakes she still occasionally 
made in English grammar. The quiet old house 
was quite changed now that it was dominated by the 
big jolly captain. Aunt Jane went about smiling 
and looking so happy that Pepita thought her almost 
pretty. She did not even look distressed when her 
brother came down half an hour late to breakfast, 
but, to do him justice, the captain was seldom late. 
He knew his sister’s little prejudices, and, although 
he might laugh at them occasionally in his good- 
natured way, he tried hard not to trouble or annoy 
her. 

And now it was Friday afternoon again, and Pe¬ 
pita and Isabel were busy once more over their 

247 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


248 

Christmas presents. Agnes Flemming and Laura 
Edwards were also of the party, having brought 
their work over to the Houghtons’, and for nearly 
two hours their needles had flown, while they 
listened to a delightful Christmas story which Mrs. 
Houghton had been reading aloud. 

“ It’s dear of you to read to us, Mrs. Houghton,” 
Laura said, as their hostess closed her book, and 
rose to leave the room. “ I hate sewing generally, 
even when it’s only making Christmas presents, but 
it isn’t half so bad when one can listen to an exciting 
story at the same time.” 

“ You sew very well, even if you do hate it,” said 
Mrs. Houghton, glancing approvingly at the pretty 
bureau-scarf Laura was making for her mother. 
“ You have nearly finished your father’s vest, I see, 
Pepita. I am sure he will be delighted with it.” 

Pepita flushed with pleasure. 

“ I hope he will like it,” she said. “ He likes 
pretty colors. He has brought a very beautiful coat 
to Aunt Jane from Japan. She says it is much too 
beautiful to wear, and she has hung it over the sofa 
in the parlor. He brought me a wonderful fan 
from Japan, too, but Aunt Jane says it would not do 
for me to carry anything so handsome, so she has 
put it away in a trunk to keep till I am grown up. 
My father says she must know best, but he is sorry, 
because he likes to see people wear pretty things.” 

“ Gentlemen don’t always understand what is good 


BREAKERS AHEAD 


249 


taste for little girls to use, especially when they have 
been away at sea for so many years,” Mrs. Hough¬ 
ton said kindly, as she left the room. Pepita looked 
rather troubled. 

“ I think my father has beautiful taste,” she re¬ 
marked a moment later. “ I like his taste much 
better than Aunt Jane’s.” 

“Where is your father this afternoon?” Isabel 
asked, by way of changing the subject. 

“ He has taken Aunt Amy Dale for a sleigh-ride. 
I hoped they would take me, but Papa did not say 
anything about my going, and I did not like to ask.” 

“ Doesn’t your father go about a good deal with 
Miss Dale? ” Agnes wanted to know. 

“ He likes her very much,” said Pepita innocently; 
“ and she likes him, too. She has his picture in a 
locket. He went to see her the morning after he 
came home, and stayed a long time. I was very 
anxious to have him come back, because it was Sat¬ 
urday, and I did not have to go to school; but Aunt 
Jane said Papa and Aunt Amy were very old friends, 
and would have a great deal to talk about.” 

“ I know something about your father and Miss 
Dale,” said Agnes, with that little air of superiority 
her friends sometimes found annoying. “ Father 
and Mother were talking about them the other night, 
and I heard what they said.” 

“ What did they say? ” inquired Laura, as Agnes 
paused mysteriously. 


250 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Maybe I’d better not tell. Pepita might not 
like it” 

“ Oh, she won’t mind. You won’t, will you, 
Pepita ? ” 

“ No,” said Pepita gravely. “ I should like to 
hear it, if it is interesting.” 

“ Well,” said Agnes, still a little doubtful as to the 
wisdom of repeating what she had heard; “ it’s 
about something that happened a long time ago, be¬ 
fore Pepita’s father went to sea. He and Miss 
Dale were engaged to be married, but they had a 
quarrel and Captain Hawthorn went away. The 
next thing people heard was that he had married a 
Spanish girl, but Miss Dale never married anybody, 
and has kept house for her father ever since.” 

“ How romantic,” exclaimed Laura, who was just 
beginning to read novels. “And now the captain 
has come home, and they have met again. Per¬ 
haps-” Laura paused, and glanced rather anx¬ 

iously at Pepita. 

“Would you mind very much, Pepita?” Agnes 
inquired curiously. 

“ Mind what ? ” 

“ Why, having a stepmother, of course. Would 
you mind if your father married Miss Dale? ” 

“I think it would be the most beautiful thing that 
could happen,” answered Pepita with shining eyes. 

Agnes and Laura fairly gasped, but Isabel only 
laughed. 



BREAKERS AHEAD 


251 


“ Why shouldn’t Pepita like it ? ” she said. “ She's 
been crazy about Miss Dale ever since last summer.” 

“ Yes, but a stepmother,” protested Laura. “ No¬ 
body ever likes having a stepmother.” 

“ I don’t see why,” said Isabel. “ Of course we 
wouldn’t want one, because we’ve all got mothers 
of our own, but some stepmothers are very nice. 
Mother had one and she loved her dearly. If I 
were Pepita, I’m sure I shouldn’t mind having Miss 
Dale for a stepmother. Why, Pepita, you look as 
if something wonderful had happened.” 

“ I feel as if it had,” said Pepita. “ Oh, Agnes, 
do you really think Aunt Amy will marry my 
father? ” 

“ I don’t know. I’m sure,” answered Agnes, who 
was feeling just a little disappointed at Pepita’s way 
of receiving the news. “ In books people always 
hate having a stepmother, and I thought you would 
hate it, too.” 

“ But books are different,” said Pepita. “ I think 
perhaps the people who write the stories make the 
stepmothers wicked on purpose, so they will be ex¬ 
citing. I am sure any one would love to have dear 
Aunt Amy for a stepmother. Aunt Jane is very 
kind, and I love her, but I have often wished that I 
might live with Aunt Amy, and if she is to be my 
stepmother, of course I shall live in her house.” 

Pepita spoke so positively and looked so very 
happy, that there really seemed no use in trying to 


252 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


convince her of the wickedness of stepmothers, and 
the conversation drifted to other topics; but Pepita 
was so absorbed in her own reflections for the rest 
of the afternoon that her friends were obliged to 
speak to her several times before they succeeded in 
attracting her attention. 

The party broke up at half-past four, and Pepita, 
Agnes, and Laura walked together as far as the 
corner, where they separated to go their different 
ways. 

“ I’ll let you know if I hear any more about that 
thing we were talking of,” were Agnes' parting 
words, at which Pepita smiled a dreamy smile, and 
turned her footsteps in a homeward direction. 

“ And I thought I should not be happy in Amer¬ 
ica,” the little girl said to herself, as she hurried 
along the snowy street. “ I did not know it was 
possible for any one to be as happy as I am to-day. 
Oh, it is a beautiful world, and I am so glad my 
father sent for me to come to America.” 

She gave a happy little skip, and plunged into a 
snowdrift for the pure pleasure of walking in the 
cold, soft substance; and then, just as she turned 
the corner of the quiet street where Miss Hawthorn 
lived, something happened. 

It was nearly dark, but there was a young moon 
in the sky, and the stars were beginning to peep out 
one by one. Pepita was hurrying, for she knew her 
aunt objected to her being out after dusk, but she 


BREAKERS AHEAD 


253 


had only a little farther to go. In less than five 
minutes she would be at home, and then she would 
tell Aunt Jane what Agnes had said, and ask if she 
thought it possible that such a wonderful, beautiful 
thing could be going to happen. 

“ Pepita! ” 

Pepita stopped short as if she had been shot. A 
tall figure had sprung suddenly from behind a tree, 
and a hand was laid on her shoulder. 

“ Pepita, don’t you know me? ” The voice was 
low, and the words were spoken in Spanish. 

“ Perico! Is it really Perico? ” 

In the first bewildered moment Pepita felt as if 
she must be dreaming, but as the light from a street- 
lamp fell upon the face of the boy at her side, she 
gave a little cry of joy, and seized both his hands 
while she gazed in mingled astonishment and delight 
into the pale, handsome young face, that was so 
changed from the Perico she knew. 

“ How—how did you get here ? Why did you 
not write to me that you were coming?” Pepita 
almost sobbed in her joy and excitement. 

“ Hush, don’t speak so loud.” Perico’s voice was 
still low, and he glanced nervously up and down the 
quiet, empty street. “ I could not write. I am in 
trouble, Pepita, terrible trouble, and I have come to 
you to help me.” 

“ In trouble? Oh, Perico, I am so sorry.” Pe- 
pita’s thoughts flew back to the many schoolboy 


254 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


scrapes in which her cousin had been the ringleader. 
“ Aunt Dolores wrote that your ship was coming to 
America, but she did not say what part, and Aunt 
Jane said Spanish ships never came to Portsmouth, 
so I was afraid I might not see you, after all. Why, 
Perico dear, you are shivering; you must be very 
cold. Come into the house, and I will introduce 
you to my Aunt Jane, and you can warm yourself 
by the fire, and tell us about your trouble. My 
father has come home, Perico, and I am so happy.” 

She was moving on, dragging Perico with her in 
her eagerness to show this beloved cousin to her 
father and aunt, but the boy drew her back with a 
firm hand. 

“ Listen, Pepita,” he said, still in that low, agi¬ 
tated voice; “ I have something to tell you. I can¬ 
not go home with you to meet your people. I told 
you I was in terrible trouble.” 

“ Oh, Perico, is it as bad as that? ” There was 
real anxiety in Pepita’s voice now, and some of the 
bright color had died out of her face. 

“It is as bad as it can possibly be,” answered 
Perico. “ I must hide from the police. If they 
find me, I shall be sent to prison. I—I am afraid I 
have killed some one.” 

“ Perico! ” The horror in his cousin’s tone made 
Perico wince. All the color was gone from Pepita’s 
face now, and Perico was obliged to put his arm 
round her to prevent her from falling. 


BREAKERS AHEAD 


255 


“There, there/’ said the boy soothingly; “don’t 
take it like that. I should not have told you so sud¬ 
denly, but it is true all the same. I am in a horrible 
scrape, and you are the only person I know in this 
whole beastly country. You will have to help me.” 

“How—how did it happen?” Pepita’s voice 
was scarcely more than a whisper. 

“ It was yesterday. We quarrelled, another boy 
and I, and I—I stabbed him.” 

Pepita shuddered and closed her eyes. This was 
something far worse than she had expected. She 
knew Perico’s temper. Once when they were little, 
he had struck her with a stone and cut her forehead, 
but when he saw the blood he had cried and been, 
oh, so sorry and ashamed. But to stab another boy 
with a knife! It was too terrible! It could not be 
true! 

“ It was in New York,” Perico went on, speaking 
fast and nervously. “ The ship had put in there for 
a week, and we had leave to go on shore for the 
evening. Some of us had too much wine.” 

“Oh, Perico, not you? What would Aunt Do¬ 
lores say ? ” 

“ No, no, I was all right, but some of the others 
were not. That was the beginning of the row. A 
fellow who had had too much began taunting me 
for not drinking with the rest. I told him to mind 
his own business, and he called me a coward. No 
Spaniard will stand an insult like that, and before 


256 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


I realized what I was doing my knife was out, and 

I- Don’t tremble so, Pepita; I am sorry I had 

to come, but what else could I do ? ” 

“ Is—is he dead ? ” whispered Pepita. Her lips 
felt so queer and dry, it was hard to form the words. 

“ I don’t know. He fell, and I saw blood, and 
there was a great confusion. Some people tried to 
hold me, but I managed to break away. It was in a 
restaurant, and there was a tram line passing the 
door. I jumped on a car, and they did not catch 
me. I was horrified, Pepita, indeed I was! I 
never meant to hurt the fellow, but for the moment 
I forgot everything but that he had called me a 
coward. Fortunately, I had some American money; 
they gave it to us before we went on shore. I stayed 
on the car until we were in quite a different part of 
the city. Then I got off and walked. I cannot 
speak their beastly English, but I met a man who 
spoke French, and he told me how to reach the rail¬ 
way station. I wanted to get away from New York 
as soon as possible.” 

“ But how did you come here ? ” questioned 
Pepita, who was beginning to recover from the first 
shock of her cousin’s terrible news. “ New York 
is far from Portsmouth. I have never been there. 
Captain Pool’s ship came to Boston.” 

“ I wanted to come to you,” said Perico. “ You 
are the only friend I have in America. I inquired 
for a train to Portsmouth. At first, no one under- 



BREAKERS AHEAD 


25 7 


stood, but then a man, who spoke French, trans¬ 
lated what I said. They told me I must go to Bos¬ 
ton first and take another train from there. It 
was nearly midnight, but there was a train going 
in a few minutes, and I took it. I sat up in a hor¬ 
rible car all night, and when I reached Boston I 
was very hungry. I could not find any one who 
understood Spanish or even French. I walked the 
streets for hours, until I saw a restaurant with a 
Spanish name over the door, and there I got some 
breakfast, and all the information I needed. The 
people who kept the restaurant were very kind, and 
one of them went with me to the station and bought 
my ticket for Portsmouth. It took the last of my 
money. Mother had written me your address, in 
case I should be able to come to see you, so I walked 
about the town until I found this street. I have 
been here since three o’clock. I dared not go to 
your aunt’s home and ask for you, so there was 
nothing to do but wait in the hope that you would 
pass and be alone. If you had not been alone, I 
should not have spoken to you, even if I had waited 
for days, and starved in the meantime.” 

“ Oh, Perico,” sobbed Pepita, “ please don’t talk 
of starving; it is too dreadful. What can I do to 
help you? ” 

“ Have you any money? ” inquired Perico. 

“ Oh, yes, a good deal. My father gave me five 
dollars last Saturday. That is more than a hundred 


258 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


francs, and he says it is my allowance, and I am to 
have it every month. I spent a dollar for some 
chocolates to give my friend Isabel for a birthday 
present, but I have all the rest. If you will wait 
here, I will run and get it for you.” 

She was actually starting, but Perico caught her 
arm. 

“ Stop,” he said; “ that will not do at all. A 
hundred francs would not be nearly enough. Be¬ 
sides, no one must know that I am here. Can’t you 
hide me somewhere ? ” 

“ Hide you? ” repeated Pepita blankly. “ Why, 
Perico, how could I ? Come home with me, and we 
will tell Papa and Aunt Jane. Papa will know what 
to do. You have no idea how good he is. He 
will-” 

“ Look here, Pepita,” interrupted Perico sharply, 
“ you don’t know what you are talking about. I 
tell you I am in great danger. I must see no one 
—no one, I say. I must be in hiding until next 
Wednesday, when the ship leaves New York. 
After that, if I have the money, I may be able to 
sail in some ship from a different port and get back 
to Spain. I do not know how badly that fellow 
may have been hurt.” 

“ But Perico, you said—you said-” Pepita’s 

teeth were chattering, and she was shaking from 
head to foot. 

“ I know, I said I might have killed him. God 




BREAKERS AHEAD 


259 


grant it is not true, but I don’t know. It was a hor¬ 
rible thing I did, Pepita. I never meant to do it, 
but it was just my awful temper. Father always 
told me my temper would get me into trouble some¬ 
time. Now, if I am found and arrested, I am done 
for, and the family is disgraced.” 

Pepita wrung her hands. 

“ Oh, Perico, dear, what can we do? I will do 
anything in the world for you; you know I will.” 
Sobs choked her, and she could say no more. 

“ Find some place where I can hide for a few 
days, and promise faithfully not to say one word 
to your father or any one else. It is the only way 
in which you can possibly help me.” 

Pepita clasped her hands with a sudden inspira¬ 
tion. 

“ There is the attic,” she gasped. “ Papa and 
Aunt Amy once hid a boy there, whose father was 
cruel and wanted to beat him. They kept him all 
night. Aunt Jane hardly ever goes up to the attic, 
and it is so big, there is plenty of room for hiding. 
I don’t like to do it,—it doesn’t seem right to hide 
any one in Aunt Jane’s house, but if there is no 
other way-” 

“ There is no other way. I have told you so. 
Stop talking nonsense, and tell me, where is this 
place you speak of? ” 

“ At the top of our house,” said Pepita; “ but I 
could not take you up there now, for Aunt Jane 



26 o 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


would see us, but if you will wait here till this even¬ 
ing, I may be able to manage it. Papa and Aunt 
Jane are going to a concert. Aunt Jane seldom 
goes out in the evening, but Papa persuaded her to 
go to-night, because one of the gentlemen who is 
going to sing is a friend of his. The servants will 
be in the kitchen, and I can let you in at the front 
door, and take you up to the attic. But, oh, Perico, 
I hate to do it. Won’t you let me tell Papa? ” 

“ No, I will not,” said Perico, and his voice 
sounded so angry that Pepita dared not say an¬ 
other word. Ever since she could remember she 
had obeyed Perico. Could she disobey him now, 
when he was in such dreadful trouble? 

Five minutes later Pepita had let herself in at 
Miss Hawthorn’s front door, and was running 
softly up-stairs to her own room. Fortunately for 
Perico’s purpose, no one saw her, for the sight of 
such a trembling, wild-eyed child could not have 
failed to excite suspicion. Once in her room with 
the door locked, Pepita flung herself on her bed, 
and, burying her face in the pillows, as she had done 
on that first Sunday afternoon in Portsmouth, gave 
way to such a burst of grief and terror as she had 
never known before in her life. 


CHAPTER XV 


IN THE ATTIC 

P EPITA, Pepita, are you there? Open the 
door.” 

It was Aunt Jane’s, voice, and Aunt 
Jane’s impatient hand was trying to turn the door¬ 
handle. With an exclamation of dismay, Pepita 
sprang to her feet. How long she had been lying 
there on the bed she did not know, but the room was 
quite dark, and she had a horrible conviction that 
it must be nearly supper-time. 

“ Pepita,” called the anxious voice again, “ what 
in the world are you doing? Why have you locked 
yourself in ? ” 

“ I am coming in a minute, Aunt Jane,” answered 
Pepita in a rather tremulous voice, as she made a 
wild search for the matches. She was afraid her 
eyes must be very red, and, besides, she was still 
wearing her hat and coat. 

“ Open the door,” commanded her aunt. “ Why 
didn’t you let me know when you came in ? I didn’t 
hear you, and was getting so nervous. I was just 
going to telephone to the Ploughtons, but I thought 
I would come up-stairs first and see if you could 
possibly be here.” 


261 


262 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Pepita had by this time succeeded in finding the 
matches and lighting the gas. One glance in the 
mirror was enough to assure her that her fears as 
to the redness of her eyes were only too well 
founded. A more swollen, tear-stained little face 
it would not have been easy to find. But she dared 
not keep her aunt waiting outside her closed door 
any longer, so, hastily thrusting her hat and coat 
into the closet, she turned the key, and in another 
moment Miss Hawthorn was in the room. 

“ My dear child,” exclaimed kind Aunt Jane, 
“ what is the matter? You look as if you had been 
crying your eyes out. Has anything happened? 
Don’t you feel well? ” 

“ I—I don’t think I do feel very well,” faltered 
Pepita, glad to snatch at any explanation of her 
unusual appearance. “ My head aches, and I don’t 
want any supper.” 

Miss Hawthorn, who was always worried over 
illness of any kind, looked troubled. 

“ I will take your temperature,” she said. “ You 
look flushed. Perhaps you have been eating too 
many chocolates. I was afraid you might when 
your father gave you that big box yesterday. Men 
never have any idea about what children should 
eat. If you don’t feel well, it might be best to go 
without supper. I can never eat anything when I 
have my headaches. Why didn’t you tell me when 
you first came in, instead of shutting yourself up 


IN THE ATTIC 263 

here? I might have given you something to cure 
your head.” 

“ Oh, I don’t believe I need any medicine,” said 
Pepita, who had already had some experience with 
Aunt Jane’s doses. “ I am not really ill, only not 
hungry, and—and-” 

“ I know; just a little out of sorts,” said her aunt 
kindly. “ Still, a dose won’t do you any harm. It 
was foolish to cry, though, just because your head 
ached.” 

Pepita’s eyes dropped, but she said nothing. 
What was there to say? She could not explain 
anything, and if Aunt Jane thought her a baby she 
could not help it. 

“ I must help Perico; I must keep Perico’s se¬ 
cret,” she kept repeating to herself, and somehow 
that thought helped her more than anything else 
could have done. 

“ If I were you, I would undress and go straight 
to bed,” Aunt Jane advised. “ There is no place as 
comfortable as bed when one doesn’t feel well. I 
am sorry I promised your father to go to the con¬ 
cert, but I will tell Maggie to' look after you while 
I am out.” 

Pepita did not want to go to bed, for it meant the 
additional delay of having to get up and dress again 
before she could go to Perico; but she feared that if 
she refused, Aunt Jane might ask more questions, 
so, somewhat to Miss Hawthorn’s surprise, she 



264 PUZZLING PEPITA 

made no objection, and acquiesced in all that lady’s 
suggestions, even to swallowing the rather disagree¬ 
able medicine she administered. 

“ You are a good, sensible child,” Aunt Jane said, 
approvingly, as she tucked her little niece up in bed. 
“ I am sure you will be all right in the morning. 
Now I must hurry down-stairs, for I hear your 
father coming in, and it’s almost half-past six.” 

She was turning to leave the room, but Pepita 
called her back. 

“ I think I shall be very comfortable now,” she 
said, rather timidly; “but please, Aunt Jane, don’t 
send Maggie to me when you go out.” 

“ Very well, dear, I won’t, of course, if you would 
rather not have her, and perhaps she might wake 
you if you should be asleep. She will be in the 
kitchen, though, and if you should want her, all you 
have to do is to ring that bell at the head of your 
bed, and she will come at once.” 

“ How very, very kind Aunt Jane is,” Pepita re¬ 
flected, when her aunt had left the room. “ It is 
terrible to hide Perico in her attic, without asking 
permission, but what else can I do? If Perico were 
sent to prison it would kill Aunt Dolores and break 
Uncle Miguel’s heart. I must save him; I must, I 
must.” And the poor child buried her face in the 
bed-clothes and began to cry again. 

But crying would not help Perico, and, besides, it 
made her head ache, so in a little while Pepita 


IN THE A TTIC 


265 


checked her sobs and tried to think of some plan 
of action. Her room was over the dining-room, 
and she could hear the murmur of voices and the 
rattle of dishes, which told her that her father and 
aunt were at supper. By and by these sounds 
ceased, and then in a few minutes she heard ap¬ 
proaching footsteps, which paused outside her door. 

“ I’ll go in first and see if she is awake,” she 
heard Aunt Jane say. “ She may have fallen asleep 
and it would be a pity to disturb her. Wait here, 
Dick, and Til tell you in a moment.” 

Then the handle of her door was softly turned 
and Miss Hawthorn came into the room. She did 
not turn up the light, which she had left burning 
low, but the reflection from the gas-jet in the hall 
was sufficient to show her that Pepita was lying 
very still, with closed eyes. She listened for a 
moment to the child’s regular breathing, and then, 
without speaking, went out again, closing the door 
after her very softly. 

“ She is fast asleep,” Pepita heard her say in a 
tone of satisfaction. “ I am sure she will be quite 
well in the morning. I took her temperature be¬ 
fore supper and she hadn’t a suspicion of fever. It 
was those chocolates, Dick; you must remember 
that children never know when to stop eating 
candy.” 

Captain Hawthorn laughed. 

“ Poor kiddie,” he said; “ I will try to remember 


266 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


in future, but I am truly sorry she isn’t well to¬ 
night. I had quite set my heart on taking her to 
the concert with us, and Amy was so sure she would 
enjoy the music.” 

Then the voices and footsteps died away, and a 
little later the closing of the front door assured 
Pepita that her father and aunt had gone out for the 
evening. With a bound she was out of bed, and 
had begun putting on her clothes. If Mrs. Pool 
had been there to see her, she would have had no 
cause to complain of slowness then. Pepita’s fin¬ 
gers fairly flew, and in less than five minutes from 
the time her father and aunt left the house, she was 
fully dressed and running swiftly and noiselessly 
down the front stairs. Maggie and the cook were 
safely in the kitchen, and neither of them heard the 
opening and closing of the front door; and in an¬ 
other moment Pepita was running along the icy 
street in the direction of the place where she had 
left Perico. 

She had not gone more than a hundred yards, 
however, when she caught sight of her cousin cross¬ 
ing from the opposite side of the street. 

“ I thought you would never come,” were his first 
impatient words, as he reached her side. “ I have 
nearly frozen to death waiting for you.” 

“ I am very sorry, Perico,” said Pepita humbly; 
“ I came just as soon as I could. Aunt Jane 
thought I was ill, and she gave me medicine and 


1 


IN THE A TTIC 


267 


made me go to bed. I could not get up again until 
she and Papa went out, and they have only just 
gone.” 

“ I know,” said Perico; “ I saw them come out of 
the house. I came here where I could watch. 
Now, for heaven’s sake take me somewhere where 
it is warm and get me some food.” 

With a heart beating so fast that she could 
scarcely breathe, Pepita led the way back to her 
aunt’s house. She had left the front door on the 
latch, so there was no difficulty in getting in again; 
and once inside the warm hall, Perico uttered a sigh 
of unutterable relief. 

“ Take me to the fire,” he commanded, his teeth 
still chattering from cold. 

Pepita hesitated. 

“ There is a fire in the library,” she said doubt¬ 
fully, “ but Maggie might come in there. She 
comes sometimes to put on more coal. I think we 
had better go at once to the attic.” 

“ Is it warm in the attic? ” 

“ I am afraid not very,” Pepita was forced to 
admit. “ It isn’t really cold, though. The pipe 
from the furnace warms it a little. Isabel and I 
played there one day last week and we were quite 
comfortable.” 

“ Come on, then,” ordered Perico. “ We must 
not wait one moment here if there is danger of my 
being seen. Who is this Maggie? ” 


268 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ One of the maids. She waits on the table and 
does a great many other things as well. Aunt Jane 
has only two maids. Maggie is very kind and I 
like her, but if she saw you, and knew I was hiding 
you, she might think that she ought to tell.” 

As she spoke Pepita was already leading the way 
up the stairs. They both spoke in whispers and 
made as little noise as possible. In the second-story 
hall Pepita paused. 

“ Wait here, Perico,” she whispered. “ I must 
get a candle. There is no light in the attic.” 

“No light?” echoed Perico indignantly. “Do 
you mean that I am to be left in the dark? ” 

Pepita was much distressed. 

“ I am very sorry,” she said apologetically, “ but 
I don’t see what I can do about it.” 

“ Why not bring a lamp ? ” Perico suggested. 
“ A lamp is at least better than a candle.” 

“ There are no lamps. Aunt Jane is afraid of 
having kerosene in the house. There is gas every¬ 
where except in the attic. I am afraid you will 
have to be satisfied with a candle. I know where 
they are kept, and I will bring some matches, too.” 

“ Well, hurry, whatever you do. I thought I 
heard a door close.” 

They both listened breathlessly for a moment, but 
the only sound to break the stillness was the ticking 
of the big grandfather’s clock on the stairs. Then 
Pepita opened the closet where her aunt kept her 


IN THE ATTIC 269 

household stores, from whence she procured a box 
of matches and a candle in a tin candlestick. 

“ This way, Perico,” she directed, when she had 
lighted her candle. “ You must hold the door at 
the foot of the stairs open, while I go in front with 
the candle. The door shuts with a spring.” 

“ Well, of all the queer places,” ejaculated Perico, 
as he followed his cousin up the steep, winding attic 
stairs. “ I am sure I shall be very uncomfortable 
here. Isn’t there any other place where you can 
hide me? ” 

“ I am afraid not, Perico. Indeed, this is the 
only place I can think of. There is the barn, but 
James lives there. I am almost sure you will be 
safe here, for no one ever comes to the attic but 
Aunt Jane, and she hasn’t been here since she put 
away the summer clothes in the autumn.” 

“ Well, I suppose I shall have to make the best of 
it, then,” grumbled Perico. “ Heavens, what a 
place! There isn’t even a carpet on the floor, and 
where on earth am I to sleep? ” 

They had reached the top of the stairs and come 
out into the big open attic. Pepita looked about her 
helplessly. It certainly did not strike her as an 
ideal place in which to spend the night. Indeed, by 
the light of her one candle it looked very strange, 
almost frightening. 

“ I—I don’t know, Perico,” she faltered. “ There 
is a bed over in that corner, and there is a mattress 


2/0 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


on it, too, but there are no pillows and no bed¬ 
clothes. Oh, Perico, dear, it is very terrible.” And 
Pepita began to cry. 

Perico was somewhat softened by his cousin’s 
distress, and his next words were a trifle more gra¬ 
cious. 

“ Oh, well, there is no use in worrying; we shall 
have to make the best of things. I am here, and I 
must stay here, if there is no better place. I sup¬ 
pose you can find me some sort of bed-covering.” 

“ There are blankets in one of those trunks,” said 
Pepita; “ I helped Aunt Jane put them away. But, 
Perico, do you think it would be right to use Aunt 
Jane’s things without asking her permission? ” 

Perico laughed scornfully. 

“ Really, Pepita,” he grumbled, “ one would sup¬ 
pose I had come here for pleasure. You don’t seem 
to realize the situation. I shall have to stay in this 
beastly hole for days. Do you want me to freeze 
to death or die of pneumonia? ” 

“ Oh, no, Perico, certainly not. You must be 
warm, of course; and if Aunt Jane knew all about 
it, I am sure she would not object to your using her 
blankets. She is very kind, but so particular. 
You have no idea how particular Aunt Jane is. 
She was quite unhappy the other day because she 
found just one little hole in a tablecloth. She talked 
about it all dinner-time.” 


IN THE ATTIC 


271 


“ She must be a very tiresome person/’ declared 
Perico. “ But whether she objects or not, I must 
have some blankets. When I am gone you can 
make my apologies. But never mind about the 
blankets just yet. The first thing I must have is 
some food. I have had nothing since this morning, 
and I am very hungry.” 

Pepita uttered a little cry of dismay, and clasped 
her hands. 

“ Oh, Perico, dear, how dreadful! But what can 
I do? All the shops are closed at this hour, and if 
I go to the kitchen for food, Maggie and the cook 
will think it so strange. They might suspect that I 
wanted it to give to some one.” 

Perico whistled. He had not thought of this 
difficulty, but it was quite clear that Pepita was 
right. 

“ I suppose I shall have to wait a little longer, 
then,” he said, after a moment’s reflection. “ I 
hope the people in this house go to bed early.” 

“ Why ? ” inquired Pepita innocently. 

“ Because, as soon as they are all asleep, you can 
go to the pantry and bring me some food. There 
surely must be some in the house.” 

“ Oh, yes, I am sure there is,” said Pepita, 
brightening a little. “ Aunt Jane would not object 
to my giving you food. She never refuses any one 
who asks for something to eat. There was a dread¬ 
ful-looking man here yesterday; so ragged and 


2 72 PUZZLING PEPITA 

dirty. My father wanted to send him away, but 
Aunt Jane said he might be hungry, and made Ellen 
give him some coffee and bread and butter.” 

Perico laughed. 

“ Well, I am glad there is something you can do 
for me that you won’t consider wrong,” he said 
rather crossly. “ You don’t seem any too anxious 
to make me comfortable.” 

The tears sprang to Pepita’s eyes again. 

“ It is not kind of you to say that, Perico,” she 
said reproachfully. “ You know I would give you 
all I have in the world. You should have the 
blankets from my bed, but if Aunt Jane should come 
in and find them gone, she would be so surprised 
and ask so many questions. What could I say to 
explain ? ” 

“ Oh, I dare say you mean well enough,” Perico 
admitted, “ but you talk nonsense. Of course I 
would not take the blankets from your bed. All I 
ask is to be warm and to have some food. You said 
this attic was not cold, but it feels to me like an ice- 
chest. I think I will lie down at once, for I am 
very tired. I did not have an hour’s sleep last 
night. Do you know where to find those blankets 
you spoke of ? ” 

It was after ten when Miss Hawthorn and her 
brother returned from the concert, and Aunt Jane’s 
first action on going up-stairs was to open Pepita’s 


IN THE ATTIC 


273 


door and peep in to see if her little niece were 
asleep. The room was in darkness, and no sound 
came from the bed, so, after listening for a moment, 
Miss Hawthorn closed the door again and went 
away to her own room. The captain lingered in the 
library for another half-hour to smoke a cigar and 
read the evening paper; then he, too, went up to 
bed, and by half-past eleven the lights were out, and 
all the house was still. It was then that Pepita 
crept out of her warm bed for the second time that 
night, but this time she did not stop to dress. 
Hastily putting on her bath-slippers and a warm 
wrapper, she opened her door and stepped softly out 
into the hall. She paused to close the door again, 
lest her father or aunt should happen to come and 
discover her absence, and then stole noiselessly 
down the stairs to the lower floor. 

A gas-jet was always left burning in the front 
hall, and by its light Pepita had no difficulty in 
finding her way through the dining-room to the back 
part of the house. Five minutes later she was on 
her way up-stairs again, carrying a well-laden tray. 

Perico, who was really quite exhausted from ex¬ 
citement and fatigue, had fallen into a heavy sleep, 
despite his unusual surroundings; but at the sound 
of an approaching footstep, he started up eagerly. 

“ What have you brought ? ” was his eager de¬ 
mand, as Pepita set down her tray. “ Bring that 
candle nearer so I can see. I was horribly afraid 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


274 

it would go out before you came. How did you 
manage in the dark? ” 

“ Oh, I know the way,” answered Pepita indif¬ 
ferently. “ Just see all the nice things I have 
brought—cold chicken, and a bottle of milk. I 
have bread and butter, too, and some delicious cakes 
with sugar on them. Aunt Jane calls them dough¬ 
nuts. I will put the tray on this trunk; it will make 
a fine table. It seems quite like a picnic, doesn’t 
it?” 

“You have forgotten to bring any salt,” com¬ 
plained Perico. “ Cold chicken is never good with¬ 
out salt.” 

“ Oh, Perico, I am sorry, but I had to be so very 
careful not to make a noise, and I didn’t dare have 
much light. I tried to think of everything, but I 
forgot all about salt. Don’t you think you can 
manage without it just this once? ” 

“ I suppose I shall have to,” said Perico re¬ 
signedly, as he poured out a glass of milk. “ That 
mattress is about the hardest thing I ever slept on. 
My bunk in the ship is soft in comparison. Are 
all the beds in the house like this one? ” 

“ My bed is very comfortable,” said Pepita. 
“ Aunt Jane said this was an old one that has been 
here for a good many years. She has intended to 
give it away, but has not found any one who 
wanted it.” 

“ Well, I suppose I must be thankful for a bed of 


IN THE ATTIC 


275 


any kind; I might have had to spend the night on 
the floor. I wish you could manage to bring me a 
pillow, though.” 

Pepita shook her head. 

“ I am afraid you will have to be satisfied with 
what you have,” she said. “ Perhaps we may be 
able to find a pillow to-morrow;—there may be 
some in one of those trunks; but we mustn’t make 
any noise now; they might hear us.” 

Perico looked rather dissatisfied, but he was very 
hungry, and the supper was very good, and as he 
ate and drank his temper improved. Pepita re¬ 
membered for the first time that she had had no 
supper herself, and suddenly realized that she, too, 
was decidedly hungry. However, she would not 
ask her cousin for a share of his meal until she was 
quite sure he had eaten all that he possibly could. 

“ These cakes are not at all bad,” remarked the 
young despot, as he bit into a fat, sugar-covered 
doughnut. “Your aunt has good things to eat, 
even if her beds are hard. I am glad, as I shall 
probably be obliged to spend several days here.” 

Pepita’s heart sank. How could she possibly 
manage to provide food for several days without 
exciting suspicion ? That would mean the dis¬ 
covery of Perico’s secret! Then an idea occurred 
to her, and her face brightened. 

“Could I not buy food for you, Perico?” she 
suggested timidly. “ It might not taste quite so 


276 


FUZZLING PEPITA 


good, but I think it would be safer. You know I 
have all that money I told you about.” 

Perico considered for a moment, and then said 
slowly: “ Perhaps it would be safer, but you must 
be careful to buy the things I like. The great dif¬ 
ficulty is to get sufficient money for my journey 
back to Spain.” 

“ How much money will you need? ” Pepita in¬ 
quired anxiously. 

“ Well, I have been thinking it over, and I have 
an idea a thousand francs would do, provided I am 
willing to travel second class.” 

“ A thousand francs,” gasped Pepita. “ Why, 
Perico, that is two hundred American dollars. 
How could we possibly get all that money ? ” 

“ We shall have to sell some things. There is 
my new gold watch; that should bring at least five 
hundred francs. Haven’t you some jewelry that 
you can sell? Of course I should return the money 
to you as soon as possible. Father would attend to 
that.” 

“ I have only the ring Uncle Miguel gave me last 
Christmas,” said Pepita; “ and I don’t think that is 
very valuable. Oh, Perico, do you think you will 
really need all that money ? ” 

“ I don’t see how I can manage with less. I 
shall have to take a ship to Gibraltar, or else go by 
wav of England or France, and travel over land 
from there. Indeed, I am doubtful if a thousand 


IN THE ATTIC 


2 77 

francs will be enough. I suppose Boston is the 
nearest port from here, but I may have to wait there 
some days for a ship.” 

Suddenly Pepita seemed to realize the full sig¬ 
nificance of what all this meant to Perico. She 
had been too much excited and bewildered to think 
clearly about anything but the one all-important 
fact that her cousin was in trouble, and that she 
must help him. But now she remembered how 
proud they had all been of Perico’s appointment as 
midshipman on the big man-of-war. Was it pos¬ 
sible that he must leave his ship and go sneaking 
home in disgrace! Perico hated to see people cry, 
and she made a great effort to check the rising sobs, 
but the tears would come rolling down her cheeks, 
much to her cousin’s disgust. 

“Just like a girl,” he complained; “always cry¬ 
ing over what can’t be helped. Do try to look a 
little more cheerful, Pepita. Here, don’t you want 
one of these cakes? They are really very good, 
and I don’t think I can possibly eat more than 
two.” 

Pepita accepted the proffered doughnut very 
gratefully, but, having no handkerchief of her own, 
was obliged to beg for Perico’s. 

“ I will try to be cheerful, Perico, dear,” she 
promised, as she dried her eyes. “ I don’t want to 
make things harder for you than they are, but— 
but it is all so terrible, and I cannot help being a 


278 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


little frightened. Do you think some one will buy 
your watch ? ” 

“ Certainly I do. It is a very fine watch. 
Father gave it to me as a parting gift. I am sorry 
to part with it, but I must have the money. You 
will have to take it to a jeweler, for I cannot leave 
this place. You must make the best bargain you 
can, for it is most important.” 

“ But, Perico, I never sold anything in my life. 
I should not know how much to ask.” 

“ Oh, I will tell you what to say when the time 
comes, but there is no use in talking about it to¬ 
night. It is late, and I am tired. There, I have 
finished and you may take the dishes away. Be 
sure you don’t forget to bring me some breakfast.” 

“ I will do my best,” Pepita promised, “ but I 
am afraid you will have to wait until I can go out 
and buy some food. Fortunately, to-morrow is 
Saturday, and I don’t have to go to school. Good¬ 
night, Perico; I hope you will sleep well. May I 
take the candle? It is so dark on the stairs, and I 
am afraid of falling with this tray.” 

“ I suppose you must, though I hate being left 
in the dark all night. However, we must not run 
any risks, whatever happens. Good-night, Pepita. 
Remember, I trust you implicitly; everything de¬ 
pends upon you.” 

Everything depended upon her. That was the 
thought that made poor little Pepita tremble far 


IN THE ATTIC 


279 


more than the cold, though the night was frosty. 
She was only just twelve, and she had never before 
had any responsibility thrust upon her. She was 
no coward, however, and she resolved that, come 
what might, she would do her best to protect Perico, 
and save Aunt Dolores and Uncle Miguel from this 
dreadful trouble and disgrace. Very softly she 
crept down the attic stairs, opened the spring door 
at the foot, and stepped out into the warm hall. 
Then she went on down the front stairs, and through 
the dining-room to the pantry. She must wash the 
dishes, else what would Maggie say when she came 
down in the morning? As to the cold chicken and 
bottle of milk, she hoped devoutly that they would 
not be missed. If they were missed and questions 
asked—well, it would be time enough to think of 
that when it happened. 

The clocks were striking twelve when Pepita 
closed her door, and, throwing off her wrapper and 
slippers, crept into bed for the third time that night. 
Her teeth were chattering, and she was shaking 
from head to foot, but there was comfort in the 
feeling of the warm covers; and after she had 
whispered a little prayer to God to take care of 
Perico and help her to protect him, she felt less 
frightened and helpless, and, being by this time 
thoroughly worn out, she soon fell into a heavy 
sleep from which she did not wake till morning. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 

P EPITA’S first sensation on waking was that 
something unpleasant had happened, but it 
was several moments before she remem¬ 
bered what it was, and she was just beginning to 
gather her scattered wits together when her door 
was opened and Aunt Jane came into the room. 

“ How do you feel this morning, dear ? ” Miss 
Hawthorn asked anxiously, as she approached her 
little niece’s bedside. “ I hope your head doesn’t 
ache any more.” 

“ Oh, I am very well, Aunt Jane, very well in¬ 
deed,” Pepita assured her, springing out of bed as 
she spoke. “ My headache is quite gone. What 
time is it? ” 

“ A quarter to eight. I let you sleep a little 
longer than usual, fearing you might have had a 
bad night. It is Saturday, you know, so there is no 
great hurry, especially as your father is only just 
up. I must hurry a little myself, as I have a few 
things to attend to before the sewing society meets 
at ten, but you and he can have breakfast together. 

I am so glad your head is better. You must re- 

280 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 


281 


member in future not to eat so many chocolates.” 
And Aunt Jane went away, leaving Pepita to make 
her toilet undisturbed. 

Miss Hawthorn had already left the dining-room 
when Pepita appeared, but the captain was at his 
breakfast, and his first greeting to his little 
daughter was an anxious question as to how she 
was feeling. Pepita assured him, as she had done 
her aunt, that she was quite well, but her father 
still looked a little troubled, for it seemed to him 
the child was looking pale and ill. 

“ And what are you going to do this morning, 
little girl ? ” he inquired kindly, when Pepita had 
given him his morning kiss and slipped into her 
place at the table. 

“ I am going shopping,” Pepita answered, her 
eyes on her plate. “ I—I have something impor¬ 
tant to do.” 

Captain Hawthorn laughed. 

“Ah, I see,” he said; “I had forgotten that 
Christmas is only two weeks off. Suppose we go 
together. I have some Christmas shopping to do 
myself, and you may be able to help me in my 
selections.” 

Poor Pepita! If this suggestion had been made 
to her only yesterday, how happy she would have 
been. But now everything was so different. Her 
heart sank, and for a moment she could think of no 
excuse to offer. Her eyes dropped and her cheeks 


282 


PUZZLING PE PITA 


grew hot. Fortunately, her father noticed her em¬ 
barrassment and saved her the trouble of a reply. 

“Rather go by yourself, would you? Well, 
that’s all right. I am not going to pry into any 
Christmas secrets. Perhaps your Aunt Amy will 
go with me, if she has nothing better to do this 
morning.” 

“ Oh, thank you,” said Pepita, very much re¬ 
lieved. “If you will be so kind as to excuse me, 
there is something I must do by myself.” 

So the subject was dropped, but the mention of 
Aunt Amy caused Pepita to remember something 
she had almost forgotten in the excitement of 
Perico’s arrival. In spite of all her anxiety, she 
was conscious of a little thrill of pleasure, for if her 
father and Aunt Amy went Christmas shopping 
together, it surely proved that they must be very 
good friends. Oh, what a comfort it would be to 
tell Aunt Amy all about Perico. Aunt Amy was 
so kind and so wise; she would surely know what to 
do. But she had given her promise and she dared 
not disobey Perico. 

Pepita’s reflections were cut short by the en¬ 
trance of her aunt, who had been in the kitchen 
giving her Saturday orders. Miss Hawthorn was 
looking flushed and excited, and her first words 
were anything but reassuring. 

“ Something awful has happened,” she an¬ 
nounced, clasping and unclasping her hands in the 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 283 

nervous way Pepita had so often noticed. “ There 
were burglars in the house last night.” 

“ Burglars,” repeated her brother, setting down 
his coffee-cup. “ Good heavens, are you sure? 
What has been stolen? ” 

“ Food,” answered Miss Hawthorn, sinking into 
a chair. “ Half a cold chicken and a bottle of milk, 
and we think some other things as well.” 

The captain looked much relieved. 

“ Is that all? ” he said. “ Well, I shouldn’t con¬ 
sider that a very serious burglary. But what 
makes you think it was a burglar? Why not one 
of the servants? ” 

“ Because I know both Maggie and Ellen to be 
strictly honest; they have been with me for years. 
Ellen is positive the things were in the ice-chest 
when she went up-stairs last night, and this morning 
they are gone.” 

“ Were any of the doors or windows left un¬ 
fastened? ” 

“ I don’t think so. Both the maids are very 
particular about locking up, and they declare noth¬ 
ing was unlocked when they came down this morn¬ 
ing. It is all horrid and mysterious, and I am 
very uncomfortable indeed. Such a thing has 
never happened in this house before.” 

Miss Hawthorn’s voice was trembling, and she 
looked as if she were going to cry. Her brother 
hastened to reassure her. 


284 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Well,” he said cheerfully, “ if nothing more has 
been taken than a cold chicken and a bottle of milk, 
I don’t think I should worry very much. Perhaps 
your burglar, if there really was one,—which I am 
rather inclined to doubt myself,—was only a 
hungry tramp. He certainly couldn’t have been a 
very desperate character, or he would never have 
been satisfied with so little.” 

“ But, Dick, think of a strange man coming into 
the house at night. The idea is too horrible. I 
shall never be able to sleep. Suppose he should 
come again.” 

Miss Hawthorn’s voice still trembled, but this 
time her brother scarcely noticed her. His eyes 
were on Pepita, who had left ofif eating her break¬ 
fast and was leaning back in her chair, looking so 
pale and frightened that her father was quite 
startled at her appearance. 

“ Why, Pepita darling,” he said soothingly, leav¬ 
ing his seat and coming over to his little daughter’s 
side, “ you are not frightened, surely. Nothing 
dreadful has happened. Some poor hungry chap 
may have stolen Aunt Jane’s chicken, but that is 
all. Why, I thought my little girl was braver than 
this.” 

“ I’m not frightened,” faltered Pepita, “ only— 

only-” She did not finish the sentence, but 

burst into such a storm of sobs that her father and 
aunt were very much astonished. The captain was 



THE WORRY OF A SECRET 


285 


very tender, and Aunt Jane, regretting her hasty 
words, tried to make light of the whole affair, and 
even to agree with her brother’s opinion that Ellen 
had made a mistake, and that there had not been 
any chicken in the ice-chest at all. But it was 
some minutes before Pepita was sufficiently calm to 
finish her breakfast and to force even the faintest 
of smiles. 

“ I had no idea the child was so nervous,” Aunt 
Jane said remorsefully, when Pepita had left the 
room. “ I have never seen her act like that before, 
even when she first came.” 

“ Some children have a horror of the word 
‘ burglar/ ” said her brother, “ and Pepita is prob¬ 
ably one of them. I wouldn’t mention the subject 
before her again, if I were you, Jane.” 

“No, I won’t, dear, of course not; but it really 
is very strange.” And Miss Hawthorn plunged 
once more into her story. 

There was no one to see Pepita when she came 
down-stairs again, dressed to go out, for her aunt 
had already gone to her room, and the captain was 
reading his morning paper in the library. It was 
a glorious winter’s morning, and although only a 
little after nine, there were already a good many 
people in the streets. Pepita’s heart beat fast as 
she hurried along in the direction of the business 
section of the town, and she hoped devoutly that 
she would not meet any one she knew. At first she 


286 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


had been very much perplexed as to how she was 
to obtain the sort of food Perico would want, but 
then she remembered a German delicatessen shop 
where she had frequently seen slices of cooked 
meat, as well as delicious-looking rolls, displayed 
in the windows, and it was towards this shop that 
she now directed her steps. Fortune favored her, 
for she not only met no one she knew, but found 
herself the only customer as well. The proprietor 
of the shop, a stout, elderly German, greeted her 
politely and inquired what she wanted. 

“ I would like some cooked meat and some rolls,” 
said Pepita; “ and I think I will take some cake also, 
if you have it.” 

“We haff everything,” the man assured her 
smiling. “ The young lady will perhaps like some 
slices of ham; it is most excellent ham; also some 
chicken, and we have some very good sausage.” 

“ I will take some of each, thank you,” said 
Pepita; “ and please let me have enough for two 
days. I may not be able to come again this after¬ 
noon, and to-morrow will be Sunday.” 

The man looked very much surprised. 

“ That is a large order,” he said curiously. “ It 
is cold weather for picnics. The young lady is per¬ 
haps going on a journey? ” 

Pepita did not answer, and the man, still looking 
somewhat puzzled, proceeded to put up her pur¬ 
chases. The food looked appetizing, and Pepita’s 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 


287 


heart rose at the thought that Perico would be pro¬ 
vided for during the next two days. She added a 
large jelly cake to her other purchases, feeling sure 
Perico would require something sweet by way of 
dessert, and then she took out her purse. But if 
her heart had risen at sight of the brown rolls and 
dainty slices of meat, it sank again, and heavily, 
too, on learning the price she was expected to pay. 
She made no remark, however, and left the shop 
with arms well laden with packages, but with an 
almost empty purse in her pocket. 

She hurried home, fortunately meeting no one 
she knew by the way, and, running up the steps, 
turned the handle of the front door. Then came 
her first difficulty; the door was usually left un¬ 
locked in the daytime, but this morning it was 
fastened and she was obliged to ring the bell. 
Maggie opened the door and her expression at sight 
of Pepita’s parcels was, to say the least, one of sur¬ 
prise. 

“ Why, Miss Pepita, whatever have you been 
buying?” she demanded. “So early in the morn¬ 
ing, too ? ” 

“ I have been shopping,” answered Pepita; and 
there was so much dignity in her tone that the maid 
forbore to ask any more questions, though she still 
looked very much astonished. 

Miss Hawthorn and her brother had both gone 
out, and Pepita reached her room without being 


288 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


asked any further questions. On the way home she 
had stopped at a dairy for a bottle of milk, which 
considerably added to her load, and by the time she 
had climbed the attic stairs and presented herself 
before her cousin, she was considerably out of 
breath. Perico, who was sitting disconsolately on 
a trunk with a blanket wrapped around his 
shoulders, greeted her with anything but a cheerful 
countenance. 

“ Well, so you have come at last,” were his first 
words. “ I thought you had left me to starve.” 

“ Oh, Perico,” panted Pepita, “ how could you 
think anything so dreadful? I came just as soon 
as I possibly could. I have brought you such a 
nice breakfast.” And she began opening her 
parcels and spreading out their contents for Perico’s 
inspection. 

But Perico did not smile. On the contrary, he 
regarded the food rather dubiously. 

“ Nothing but bread and meat,” he remarked. 
“ Couldn’t you get me any hot coffee ? ” 

Pepita’s face fell. 

“ I never thought of coffee,” she said. “ I 
don’t believe I could have carried any more, even if 
I had known where to get it. I have brought some 
milk, though, and it is good, for there is cream on 
the top; and just look at this beautiful cake.” 

“ One doesn’t eat cake for breakfast,” objected 
Perico, “ but I suppose I shall have to make the best 



He regarded the food rather dubiously.— Page 288 


'V-' 















THE WORRY OF A SECRET 289 

of it.” And without further ado Perico proceeded 
to make a hearty meal. 

Pepita watched him with loving, anxious eyes. 

“ I would not eat more than I really needed, if 
I were you, Perico,” she said timidly. “ I am 
afraid this food will have to last for a long time. 
I shall not have the money to buy more.” 

“ Good Heavens! you don’t mean you have spent 
all your money ? ” Perico laid down the sandwich 
of roll and sausage he was eating and regarded his 
cousin in horrified amazement. 

Pepita nodded. 

“ There is a very little left,” she said; “ not 
enough to buy another meal like this.” 

“ Then you will have to get food as you did last 
night,” said Perico with decision. 

“ But I can’t, Perico; never again. It is not 
right, and, besides, it is dangerous. People will 
find out. When Aunt Jane found that the chicken 
was gone, she thought thieves had been in the 
house and she was frightened. They will not leave 
the front door unlocked even in the day; Maggie 
told me so just now. They thought I was 
frightened, too, and both Aunt Jane and my father 
were so very kind. Oh, Perico, it is terrible; I 
don’t know what we can do.” 

Perico evidently thought the situation a difficult 
one, for he said nothing, but munched his bread and 
sausage in silence, while his handsome face grew 


290 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


very grave and troubled. '‘We must sell the watch 
and that ring of yours as soon as possible,” he an¬ 
nounced at last. “ And I am very much afraid, 
even then, that I shall not have enough money to 
take me back to Spain. I am afraid, too, that they 
will try to cheat you and not give you what the 
things are worth. You are such a little thing, and 
I don’t suppose you have ever sold anything in your 
life.” 

Pepita admitted that she had not. 

“ I tried to sell Abdul, my monkey, once, when I 
first came here,” she added. “ I wanted the money 
to give to a poor woman whose little boy needed it 
to go to the hospital, but no one would buy my 
Abdul, and afterwards Aunt Jane told me I should 
never try to sell anything again. Oh, Perico, is 
there no other way ? ” 

“ No, there is not,” Perico answered gloomily. 
“ If I could speak this confounded language, I could 
sell them myself; they would not dare cheat me. 
We might go together and you could translate.” 

“ But how would we get into the house again if 
the front door is always to be locked? ” 

Perico uttered an impatient ejaculation; then 
suddenly his face cleared. 

“ I have an idea, Pepita,” he said. “ I am afraid 
to trust you with the watch at first, it is valuable, 
but that ring of yours,—you might try to sell that; 
and if you are successful, you can take the watch 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 


291 


later. Suppose you take the ring this morning. 
You will surely get something for it, and we must 
have more money for food. It is absurd to talk of 
this being enough for days. I shall require more 
this evening.” 

Pepita’s heart was very, very heavy, but she 
made a brave effort to smile. 

“Very well, Perico,” she said obediently; “I 
will do my best, but I am afraid I am not at all 
clever about selling things. How much should I 
ask for the ring? ” 

“Let me see,” said Perico; and with a sigh 
Pepita drew from her finger the pretty gold ring 
with its two tiny diamonds,—the only article of 
jewelry she possessed, and which had been her pride 
and joy ever since Uncle Miguel had given it to 
her last Christmas,—and laid it in her cousin’s 
hand. 

Perico examined it critically. 

“ It is not very valuable,” he decided, “ but you 
ought to get something for it. I should say it was 
worth at least a hundred francs.” 

“ A hundred francs is twenty dollars,” said 
Pepita. “ That seems a good deal of money to 
ask for, but I will try. When shall I go? ” 

“ The sooner the better. I don’t feel at all com¬ 
fortable to know that there is not even money 
enough left to buy me more food. You had better 
go at once, and be sure to come up here as soon as 


292 PUZZLING PEPITA 

you come back and let me know what you have 
done. I do wish you could bring me some water 
for washing. It is extremely disagreeable not to 
be able to wash one’s face and hands.” 

It was with a very heavy heart that Pepita opened 
the front door for the second time that Saturday 
morning and started forth on her singular errand. 
Maggie was sweeping the library, but she was so 
accustomed to Pepita’s coming and going as she 
liked, that she paid no attention to the closing of the 
door, and the little girl walked away unquestioned. 
It was very sad to have to part with her ring, dear 
Uncle Miguel’s Christmas gift, but that was not the 
thought that was causing her heart to beat so fast. 
She had promised Aunt Jane never again to try to 
sell anything, and Aunt Jane was so good. And 
yet there was Perico who needed that money so 
badly. Oh, what should she do? What ought she 
to do? 

She had not gone far when she caught sight of a 
familiar figure advancing in her direction,—a 
poorly dressed little girl whose face looked as if it 
would be improved by a judicious use of soap and 
water. It was Rosy Callahan, and the recognition 
was mutual, for Rosy’s dirty little face broke into 
a broad smile and she quickened her pace to a 
run. 

“ How’s the monkey? ” were her first words, as 
she reached Pepita’s side. 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 


293 


“ He is very well, thank you,” answered Pepita 
politely. “ Perhaps you will like to come to see him 
sometime.” 

Rosy looked very much pleased. 

“ I’ll come right off now,” she said. “ I was 
cornin’ to see Uncle Jim anyhow. Mother sent me 
with a message. Do you know if he’s in? ” 

“ I think he is, but I am not sure. I—I am very 
sorry, but I am afraid I cannot go back just now. 
There is something very important that I must do 
first. Some other day I shall be glad to have you 
come to see Abdul.” 

“ Oh, that’s all right,” said Rosy good-naturedly. 
“ Mother had a letter from the hospital yesterday 
and they say Jimmy’s doin’ fine.” 

“ I am very glad,” said Pepita. “ Please give 
your mother my compliments and tell her how glad 
I am. Now I am afraid I must go on. Good¬ 
morning.” 

She was moving on when she was seized with a 
sudden inspiration. 

“ Wait one moment, please,” she said, stopping 
short again; “ I think perhaps you can help me. 
Can you tell me the best place to go in order to sell 
things ? ” 

“ What kind of things ? ” inquired Rosy, her eyes 
opening wide in surprise. She had not supposed 
that people who lived in houses like Miss Haw¬ 
thorn’s ever wanted to sell things. 


294 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“Rings,” said Pepita; “and—and perhaps 
watches as well.” 

“ Rings and watches? ” repeated Rosy. “ Maybe 
that big jewelry store down on Main Street might 
buy them, but what do you want to sell them 
for?” 

“ Because I need the money for something else,” 
answered Pepita reddening. She was beginning to 
feel very uncomfortable and a little indignant as 
well. What right had this mere stranger to ques¬ 
tion her so closely? 

“ Well, you might try that store, and, if they 
don’t want the things there, maybe they’d tell you 
some other place to go. Why don’t you pawn 
them? Then you could get them back again when 
you have the money.” 

“ What is it 4 to pawn ’ ? ” inquired Pepita eagerly. 

“ Why, you take your things to a pawnshop and 
they give you money on them. Then when you 
have the money to spare, you go and get them back 
again.” 

Pepita gave a great sigh of relief. Was it possi¬ 
ble that she need not part with her precious ring 
after all? 

“Where is this pawnshop?” she demanded. 
“ Tell me, and I will go there at once.” 

“ There’s one on Main Street,” said Rosy. 
“ Mother took Father’s watch there once when 
Jimmy was sick, and she had to have some money. 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 


295 


Uncle Jim was awful mad when he heard about it, 
and he took the ticket and got the watch back right 
away. Say, do you think your folks would like to 
have you go to a pawnshop ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” Pepita admitted, “ but I think 
I must go, even if they do not like it. Aunt Jane 
has forbidden me to sell things, but perhaps to pawn 
is not so wrong as to sell. Would it be too much 
trouble for you to come with me and show me the 
shop?” 

Rosy gave a ready consent. She was growing 
more curious every moment. 

“ It’s not far,” she said. “ I’ll take you there, 
and then when we go back maybe you can show me 
the monkey.” 

Pepita made no answer, and the two little girls 
walked on, side by side, in the direction of the busy 
shopping district. Rosy would have liked to talk, 
but Pepita was unusually silent. The nearer they 
approached their destination the faster her heart 
beat, and the more uncertain she felt as to what her 
father and aunt would think of this proceeding. 
Still, there was comfort in the thought that she 
would not be obliged to part with her precious ring 
altogether. What kind people they must be who 
gave one money for one’s things, and then returned 
them later. She supposed a pawnshop must be 
some sort of charitable institution, and although she 
did not feel at all sure that Aunt Jane would ap- 


296 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


prove of her accepting charity, still it seemed a 
better thing to do than to sell her ring. 

“ There’s the place, right over there,” said Rosy, 
coming to a sudden standstill and pointing to a 
small shop on the opposite side of the street, in the 
window of which a varied assortment of articles 
was displayed. “ I guess maybe I won’t go in with 
you. I’ll just wait here till you come out.” 

Pepita would have preferred to keep her com¬ 
panion with her, but Rosy seemed so unwilling to 
enter the shop that she was obliged to let her have 
her way, and, with a desperate determination not to 
be frightened, she resolutely crossed the street and 
opened the pawnbroker’s door. 

As the door opened, a little bell tinkled and a 
man appeared, coming from the back of the shop. 
He was a little old man with a hooked nose and not 
very clean hands. He spoke with a strong Jewish 
accent. 

“ Veil, little miss, and vat can I do for you? ” he 
inquired politely, at the same time eyeing Pepita 
very curiously. He had such sharp, keen eyes that 
the little girl felt as if he must be reading her very 
soul. Her cheeks were burning, but she made a 
great effort to steady her voice. 

“ I would like to have you take this ring and give 
me some money for it,” she faltered; and, drawing 
off her glove, she laid the ring on the counter. 

The man regarded her even more keenly, and his 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 297 

astonishment evidently grew. For a well-dressed 
little girl to come into his shop at all was sufficiently 
surprising, but that she should desire to pawn a 
ring—the thing was unheard of. A moment’s re¬ 
flection was enough to assure him that this was a 
case in which it would be much wiser not to have 
any dealings. 

“ I am sorry,” he said decidedly, “ but I cannot 
take your ring. We do not deal in little girls’ 
rings.” 

Pepita was terribly disappointed. 

“ I want the money very much indeed,” she said; 
and, try as she might, she could not keep the tremor 
out of her voice any longer. “ Could you not pos¬ 
sibly take my ring? ” 

“ Sorry, miss, but I really couldn’t. If you want 
some money, better ask your papa for it. Little 

‘•“XT' 

ladies like you don’t pawn their jewelry.” 

Pepita felt the implied reproof, and, without 
another word, picked up her ring, slipped it on her 
finger once more, and turned to leave the shop. In 
the meantime, however, things of which she knew 
nothing had been happening outside. 

The door of the pawnbroker’s shop had scarcely 
closed behind Pepita, when the door of another 
shop on the opposite side of the street—close to 
which Rosy had stationed herself to await her 
friend’s return—opened and two people came out. 
They were a lady and gentleman, and at sight of 


298 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


them Rosy’s face broke forth, for the second time 
that morning, in a broad smile of recognition. The 
gentleman she did not know, it is true, but the lady 
was Miss Dale, the daughter of the kind doctor who 
had taken Jimmy to the hospital. Miss Dale her¬ 
self had come to see Jimmy, and had taken a good 
deal of interest in the Callahan family since the 
day last August when she had first heard of them 
from Pepita; and Mrs. Callahan had, for several 
months, been doing the Dales’ washing. The rec¬ 
ognition was mutual, for at sight of the eager little 
face Miss Dale stopped to wish Rosy a pleasant 
good-morning. 

Rosy was anxious to impart the good news about 
Jimmy, at which Miss Dale looked much pleased. 

“I will tell my father,” she said; ‘‘I know he 
will be glad. And we must tell Pepita, too. It 
was she who was really Jimmy’s first friend, you 
know.” 

“ Yes, ma’am, I know. She was awful good. 
She wanted to sell her monkey to get the money for 
Jimmy to go to the hospital. And now she wants 
some money for something else; she wants it awful 
bad, too.” 

Miss Dale and her companion both looked rather 
startled at this announcement, and the lady in¬ 
quired hurriedly: “ What do you mean? How do 
you know Pepita wants money? ” 

“ Because she told me so, and she’s gone over 


THE WORRY OF A SECRET 


299 


there to pawn her ring,” was Rosy’s astounding 
reply, and at that moment the pawnbroker’s door 
opened again and Pepita came out. 


CHAPTER XVII 


PEPITA KEEPS HER PROMISE 


u 


p 


EPITA 




There was no doubt about the horror and 
amazement in both voices, nor in the two 
faces that were regarding the little culprit as she 
stood silently before her father and Miss Dale, turn¬ 
ing from white to red and back to white again. 

“ What in the world-” began Captain Haw¬ 

thorn; then he paused abruptly, checked by a warn¬ 
ing glance from his companion. 

“ Pepita, dear,” said Miss Dale kindly, “ tell us 
what you were doing in that dreadful place? ” 

“ I did not know it was a dreadful place,” 
faltered Pepita. “ Rosy told me •——” She glanced 
at the spot where, a moment before, Rosy had 
been standing, but that young person, possibly fear¬ 
ing she might come in for a share of blame if she 
remained, had discreetly taken herself off. 

“ Well, dear, what did Rosy tell you ? ” There 
was no evading the direct question, or the appeal in 
the kind eyes bent upon her. Pepita made a 
mighty effort to pull herself together. 

3° o 





PEPITA KEEPS HER PROMISE 


301 


“ Rosy said the people in that shop would give 
me money for my ring, and that by and by I could 
go there and get it back again. I promised Aunt 
Jane I would never try to sell anything again, but 
Rosy said this was not to sell, only to pawn.” 

Notwithstanding her real distress, Miss Dale 
could not help smiling at this explanation. But the 
captain did not look at all amused. He was frown¬ 
ing, and Pepita had never before seen his face so 
grave and stem. 

“ What did you want the money for ? ” he de¬ 
manded impatiently, before Miss Dale had time to 
ask another question. “ Why didn’t you come to 
me instead of trying to pawn your ring? ” 

Pepita clasped her hands, and, in the excitement 
of the moment, almost forgot her English. 

“ I must beg that you excuse me, Papa,” she 
said, lifting imploring eyes to her father’s face, 
“ but I cannot tell you. It is a very great secret.” 

“ Nonsense,” said the captain sharply; “ of course 
you can tell us. Don’t be a silly little girl, Pepita. 
You want money for something. Now what is it? 
Out with it, like a good child.” 

His voice was kind, even a little amused, but 
Pepita’s face did not change. 

“ I am very sorry if it is not right to pawn,” she 
said humbly. “ I will not do it again if you forbid 
me, but I cannot tell you why I must have that 
money.” 


302 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


“ Why, you obstinate little thing,” exclaimed the 
captain indignantly; but again Miss Dale gave him 
a warning glance and he said no more. 

“ Don’t tease her any more, Dick, please,” she 
advised in a low voice. “ She will tell us by and 
by, I am sure. Come, Pepita, let us go home; it 
is too cold to stand here, and you are shivering 
already.” 

Pepita said nothing, but followed her two com¬ 
panions obediently. At least she was not to be 
asked any more questions just then, and that was 
a great relief. As soon as they reached home, she 
would go to Perico and tell him what had happened. 
When he learned that she had not been able to dis¬ 
pose of her ring, and that there was no money with 
which to buy food, perhaps he would consent to let 
her tell. Oh, what a comfort that would be! 

The walk was a rather silent one. Captain 
Hawthorn and Miss Dale talked a little to each 
other, but neither of them addressed Pepita, and 
the little girl was quite aware of the fact that she 
had incurred their severe displeasure. It was very 
dreadful to have the two people she loved best in 
America angry with her. Involuntarily she dropped 
behind her companions, and took out her hand¬ 
kerchief. There was no use trying to keep the 
tears back any longer, and they came thick and 
fast. She cried so hard that she quite forgot to 
look where she was walking, and the consequence 


PEPITA KEEPS HER PROMISE 303 

was that she slipped on a piece of ice and fell 
at full length on the sidewalk with one foot under 
her. 

She tried to scramble to her feet, but the next 
moment sank back again with a sharp cry of pain. 
She had sprained her ankle. 

At the sound of that cry Captain Hawthorn and 
Miss Dale both turned to see what had happened, 
and in another moment two anxious faces were 
bending over Pepita, and two kind voices were 
wanting to know where she was hurt. For¬ 
tunately, they were almost home, and Captain 
Hawthorn carried his little daughter into the house 
and laid her on the library sofa where she lay with 
closed eyes, too faint with pain even to speak. 

It was after dinner, and Pepita, the sprained 
ankle bathed and bandaged, still lay on the library 
sofa, where Dr. Dale had told her she must remain 
for the rest of the day. At first the pain had been 
so severe that she had forgotten everything else in 
the world, even Perico; but now that she was suf¬ 
fering less, she was beginning to be very miserable 
indeed. Everybody had been very kind, and not 
another word had been said to her about the episode 
of the morning. Aunt Amy had stayed with her 
until Aunt Jane came home, and, when she went 
away at last, had promised to return in the after¬ 
noon. Maggie had brought her dinner on a tray, 


304 


PUZZLING PE PITA 


and Aunt Jane, leaving her own dinner to cool, had 
hovered over her little niece to make sure that she 
was really eating and not just pretending. Her 
father had sat with her for an hour after dinner 
and told her stories about the different countries he 
had visited. Oh, yes, every one had been kind, as 
kind and sympathetic as possible, and yet deep down 
in her heart Pepita knew that her father and aunt 
had not forgotten, and that the time would soon 
come when she would be expected to answer ques¬ 
tions. But that was not the worst fear that was 
troubling her, as she lay tossing from side to side 
on the sofa. She had promised Perico to come to 
him as soon as she returned that morning. What 
would he think of her? And, worse still, how was 
she to let him know what had happened? Dr. 
Dale had told her she was not to try to walk, and, 
even if he had not, she realized the impossibility of 
going to the attic in her present condition. Once, 
when she had been left alone for a few minutes, she 
had tried to stand, but the effort was too painful 
and she had sunk back on the sofa again with a 
little moan. No, she could not go to Perico, that 
was plain; but if she did not go, how angry and per¬ 
plexed he would be. There was food enough, at 
any rate, she was thankful for that, and perhaps by 
to-morrow her foot might be better. But how, oh, 
how, was she to get the money Perico needed? If 
she could only confide in some one, but there was 


PEPITA KEEPS HER PROMISE 


305 


that dreadful promise, and she had never broken a 
promise in her life. 

“ Does your foot ache very much, dear? ” Aunt 
Jane, who was sewing by the window, inquired 
sympathetically. 

“No, thank you, Aunt Jane; the pain is much 
better,” Pepita answered with a brave attempt to 
speak cheerfully. “ Do you think my foot will be 
well to-morrow ? ” 

“Not quite so soon as that, I am afraid, dear; 
but you must be thankful that your ankle is only 
sprained, not broken. Your father broke his ankle 
when he was a boy, and I remember he was on 
crutches for weeks. Would you like to have me 
telephone any of your friends? Perhaps Isabel 
could come over and see you this afternoon.” 

Pepita shook her head. 

“No, thank you, Aunt Jane; I think I would 
rather not have any company to-day. Where has 
Papa gone ? ” 

“ Over to the Dales*, I think, but he will be back 
soon, and Amy, too. I have an idea that they may 
have something interesting to tell you when they 
come.” 

Miss Hawthorn smiled mysteriously, but Pepita 
scarcely noticed her words. If her foot were not 
better to-morrow, what would become of Perico up 
there in the attic? If his food gave out, as it surely 
would, for Perico had a large appetite, and he had 


306 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


no way of procuring more- Pepita buried her 

face in the sofa-cushions with a shudder. 

Miss Hawthorn rose and laid down her sewing. 
She said nothing, but left the room, and when she 
returned a few minutes later she was carrying 
Abdul’s cage. 

Pepita started up with a little cry of astonish¬ 
ment. 

“ Oh, Aunt Jane, how very kind of you to bring 
Abdul down here.” 

Miss Hawthorn suppressed a shudder as she set 
down the cage. 

“ I thought the monkey might amuse you a little,” 
she said. “ I don’t like having him down-stairs, as 
a rule, but this is an exception. He can’t do any 
damage while he is in his cage.” 

Pepita gave her aunt a grateful look, but even the 
presence of Abdul failed to produce a smile that 
afternoon, and Miss Hawthorn went back to her 
sewing with a distinct sense of disappointment. 
After all, she thought children were very hard to 
satisfy, even the best of them. 

Abdul chattered and hopped about in his cage, 
eager to attract his little mistress’ attention, but 
Pepita scarcely noticed him, and for a while noth¬ 
ing happened. Pepita lay so still that her aunt 
thought she had fallen asleep, but the little girl was 
not asleep; she had never felt quite so wide-awake 
in her life. At last the silence was broken by a ring 



PEPITA KEEPS HER PROMISE 307 

at the door-bell, and Miss Hawthorn again laid 
down her work. 

“ I will open the door,” she said; “ I think 
Maggie is dressing. It is your father and Amy. 
I saw them crossing the street.” 

Pepita’s heart gave a sudden jump, and began to 
beat very fast. She would have given everything 
she possessed to avoid what she felt was coming, 
but there was no help for it. In another moment 
her father and Miss Dale came into the room. 
They were both looking very happy, and there was 
a pretty, bright color in Aunt Amy’s cheeks. 

“ I have brought you a present, Pepita,” said the 
captain, as he approached his little daughter’s sofa, 
and bent to kiss her. “ I wonder if you can guess 
what it is.” 

“ I am afraid not, Papa.” Pepita tried to smile, 
but the attempt was rather a failure. “ Will you 
please show it to me ? ” 

For answer, her father drew Miss Dale forward 
and put his arm round her waist. 

“ Here it is,” he said laughing; “or, rather, I 
should say, here she is. I have brought you a 
mamma.” 

Then, for one happy moment Pepita almost for¬ 
got her trouble and anxiety. 

“ Oh, I am glad, so glad,” she cried impulsively; 
and she threw her arms round Aunt Amy’s neck 
and hugged her. 


308 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


“ Are you very much surprised? ” Captain Haw¬ 
thorn wanted to know. 

“ Not very much,” Pepita answered, lifting her 
face from Aunt Amy’s shoulder, where she had 
hidden it for one blissful moment. “ Agnes Flem¬ 
ming said it might happen. She said it yesterday, 

and I was so happy until-” Pepita paused 

abruptly with a sudden recollection of her secret. 

“Until when?” her father inquired; but Pepita 
did not answer, and Miss Dale made a hasty sign 
to him not to pursue the subject. 

“ Now, Pepita, I am going to leave you and Aunt 
Amy to have a little talk while I go to the barber’s,” 
Captain Hawthorn said, a few minutes later. “ I 
must have my hair cut, but I shall not be gone 
long.” 

At any other time Pepita would have been de¬ 
lighted at the prospect of having Aunt Amy to her¬ 
self, but now her heart sank as Miss Dale drew her 
chair close to the sofa and evidently prepared for a 
comfortable chat. Aunt Jane had left the room 
with her brother, and the two were alone together. 
There was nothing alarming, however, in Miss 
Dale’s first words. 

“ Pepita, dear,” she said cheerfully, “ you have 
no idea how happy you have made me. I was so 
afraid you might not want to have me for a mother, 
and I have grown to love you so dearly, that that 
would have hurt me terribly.” 



PEPITA KEEPS HER PROMISE 


309 


“ But how could any one help being glad ? ” said 
Pepita, and there was such genuine surprise in her 
tone that Miss Dale could not help laughing. 

“ I think some people might quite easily have 
helped it,” she said. “ But, Pepita darling/' she 
added more gravely, “ little girls who love their 
mothers don’t keep secrets from them. That is 
why I want you to tell me why you wanted that 
money so much that you were willing to part with 
your ring in order to get it. Your father gave you 
five dollars only last week. Wasn’t that enough to 
buy Christmas presents?” 

“ Oh, yes, indeed; I never thought of Christmas 
presents. I am very, very sorry, dear Aunt Amy, 
but I cannot possibly tell you why I must have that 
money. It is a great secret, and I have promised 
not to tell.” 

Miss Dale looked very much perplexed. 

“ But, Pepita, that is not right,” she urged. 
“ It is your duty to tell your friends if anything is 
troubling you. Don’t you think you would be hap¬ 
pier if you told us all about it? ” 

“ I should be a thousand times happier if I could 
tell you,” said Pepita, “ but it is wrong to break a 
promise.” 

“ But, my dear child, was it right to make that 
promise in the first place? You know sometimes a 
promise may do harm, and in that case it might be 
even more wrong to keep it than to break it. 


3io 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Won't you at least tell me to whom you have made 
this foolish promise ? ” 

Pepita shook her head mournfully. 

“ I must beg to be excused, dear Aunt Amy," she 
said piteously, “ but I cannot tell you anything 
about it. I am very unhappy, but I should be still 
more unhappy if I broke my promise." 

Miss Dale was very much troubled, and a little 
impatient as well. 

“ This is the first thing I have ever asked of you, 
Pepita," she pleaded. “ You say you are glad I 
am going to be your mother. Won’t you prove it 
by giving me your confidence? I promise to re¬ 
spect it, and not tell any one unless I think it abso¬ 
lutely necessary.” 

For a moment Pepita wavered. Then the vision 
of Perico’s stern, indignant face rose before her 
and she resolutely shook her head again. 

“ I would rather tell you than any one in the 
world," she said, “ but, you see, you might think 
you ought to tell other people, and I have promised 
that no one shall know." 

“ Then you must think that what you are con¬ 
cealing is wrong." There was no doubt of the im¬ 
patience in Miss Dale’s voice now. “ Otherwise 
you would not be afraid to confess." 

“ I am not afraid of you, Aunt Amy, or of Papa 
or Aunt Jane, but if I broke my promise it would 
make some one very angry." 


PEP IT A KEEPS HER PROMISE 311 

Miss Dale was both hurt and perplexed. She 
had been so sure of winning Pepita’s confidence 
that, for the moment, she was really angry. 

“ Very well,” she said coldly, “ I see you will not 
trust me, and, as people always trust those they 
love, I am afraid you cannot love me as much as 
you say you do. I shall not say any more now, 
but I hope that by and by you may change your 
mind. One thing I must insist upon, though, and 
that is that you promise faithfully never to go to 
such a dreadful place again. Pawnbrokers’ shops 
are not proper resorts for little girls.” 

“ Oh, I will promise that,” cried Pepita eagerly. 
“ I did not know it was wrong to go there. I 
thought perhaps to pawn was less wrong than to 
sell. Oh, Aunt Amy, I am very, very unhappy.” 
And poor little Pepita broke down completely and 
sobbed as if her heart would break. 

The sight of such distress was more than Aunt 
Amy’s kind heart could bear. She knelt by the sofa 
and took Pepita in her arms. The half hour that 
followed was a very painful time for them both. 
Pepita continued to cry unrestrainedly, but to all 
Miss Dale’s pleadings she only answered that she 
could not and would not break her promise. At 
last Miss Dale rose in despair. 

“You are a very obstinate, unreasonable child,” 
she declared with a sigh. “ I believe you are mak¬ 
ing yourself wretchedly unhappy for some foolish 


312 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


reason, but there is no use in arguing with you any 
longer. 5 ’ 

Without another word she left the room and 
Pepita was alone. Poor Pepita, she had never been 
so miserably unhappy in her life. There was no 
doubt of the fact that she had hurt Aunt Amy very 
cruelly, and on this day of all days. And yet how 
could she betray Perico’s secret? It was all very 
terrible, and, oh, so puzzling. She cried until she 
could not cry any more, and was just falling into 
a doze when the sound of a sudden scream caused 
her to sit up, quite wide-awake again, and with a 
heart beating uncomfortably fast. The scream was 
followed by hurrying footsteps and the murmur of 
excited voices. 

“ Fire! Fire! The kitchen chimney is on fire! ” 

Pepita tried to spring to her feet, but a sharp 
pain in her ankle caused her to sink back on the 
sofa once more with a moan. In another moment 
Aunt Amy had come running into the room. 

“ Don’t be frightened, Pepita,” she said hur¬ 
riedly; “ it’s only the kitchen chimney. We’ll have 
it out in a few minutes. Stay just where you are; 
there’s no danger.” And she was gone again be¬ 
fore Pepita could ask a question. 

But Pepita was frightened, horribly frightened. 
At the word “ fire,” her thoughts had flown to 
Perico alone in the attic, unconscious of danger. 


PEP IT A KEEPS HER PROMISE 313 

Suppose Aunt Amy were mistaken. Suppose they 
could not put the fire out in a few minutes. With 
a gasp she was on her feet, forgetful for the mo¬ 
ment of the cruel pain in her foot, which, at her 
first attempt to walk, was making her faint and 
sick. The hall was full of smoke, which was com¬ 
ing from the back of the house, but there was no 
one to be seen, for everybody had rushed to the 
kitchen. How she reached the stairs Pepita never 
knew, but she did reach them and climb them, too, 
though every step was torture. Now she was in 
the second-story hall, making her way towards the 
door at the foot of the attic stairs. If she could only 
reach that door and open it, she could shout to 
Perico to come down. But could she reach it? 
That was the question. There was a strange ring¬ 
ing noise in her ears, and things were beginning to 
grow black before her eyes. Yes, here was the 
door, and now she was groping blindly for the 
handle. 

“ Perico, Perico, come down quick; the house is 
burning. Perico, do you hear?” 

She thought she was shouting, but in truth her 
voice was not much more than a loud whisper. She 
waited a moment, but there was no answer. Per¬ 
haps Perico was asleep. With one last desperate 
effort she sank upon her hands and knees and began 
crawling up the attic stairs. And then the swing- 
door slammed behind her. 


314 PUZZLING PEP IT A 

Perico was feeling decidedly cross, and a good 
deal worried as well. He could not understand why 
Pepita had not come to tell him of the result of the 
morning’s expedition, and was beginning to fear 
that something serious must have happened. It was 
extremely dull to sit there hour after hour with 
nothing to do, and only one’s thoughts for company. 
They were not pleasant thoughts either, for Perico 
was not a bad boy, and he was suffering more than 
he had ever suffered before in his life. If Pepita 
would only come. If something would only hap¬ 
pen. And then suddenly he heard the slam of a 
door, followed by the sound of some one creeping 
slowly and cautiously up the stairs. Perico sprang 
to his feet. 

“ Who is there? ” he demanded in Spanish, quite 
forgetting the fact that no one in that house except 
Pepita understood his language. 

“ It is I, Perico,” came a very faint answer from 
halfway up the stairs. “ Oh, Perico, come quickly; 
the house is on fire. I came to tell you, but it took 
so long, because I cannot walk. I have sprained 
my ankle. Oh, Perico, dear, help me; I cannot 
come any further, the pain is so bad.” 

The fire in the kitchen chimney,—which had been 
but a trifling affair after all,—was out, and the 
family were on their way back to the front of the 
house. They were still talking excitedly over the 


PEPITA KEEPS HER PROMISE 315 

event which had broken in on the quiet of their 
afternoon’s occupations. 

“ I have told Ellen over and over not to put too 
much coal on that range,” Miss Hawthorn was 
saying, as she came out into the front hall, followed 
by her brother and Miss Dale. “ I knew there 
would be trouble with that chimney sometime. 
Thank heaven, it was no worse! ” 

“ Well, I imagine she has learned her lesson,” the 
captain said good-naturedly; “ she was certainly 
frightened enough. Halloa, what’s this? ” 

Captain Hawthorn might well exclaim, “ What’s 
this?” and his sister and her guest stopped short, 
staring in amazement, for there, slowly descending 
the front stairs, was a tall youth whom none of 
them had ever seen, carrying Pepita, limp and un¬ 
conscious in his arms. 

Everybody’s first thought was for Pepita, and it 
was not until she had been laid tenderly on the 
library sofa and was beginning to show signs of 
returning consciousness, that it even occurred to 
them to question her strange companion. But at 
last the captain turned to the stranger, who stood 
motionless in the doorway, with folded arms, 
calmly waiting the progress of events. 

“ And may I ask who you are, and how you came 
here ? ” he inquired in the utmost astonishment. 

Perico did not understand the English words, 
but, guessing their meaning, he stepped forward. 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


316 

“ I am Pepita’s cousin, Perico Lopez,” he an¬ 
swered. “ I came here yesterday in great trouble, 
and appealed to my cousin for protection. She 
concealed me in your attic, where I have been since 
last evening. I forbade her to tell any one of my 
presence, and she obeyed me, but when she thought 
me in danger from fire she came to warn me at the 
risk of her own life. She is a noble girl, and I am 
proud that she is my cousin.” 

Captain Hawthorn was the only one of the party 
who understood Spanish, but he rapidly translated 
Perico’s words, and the effect was quite as dramatic 
as even that young man himself could have ex¬ 
pected. Aunt Jane threw up her hands with a 
scream, and Miss Dale,—who was bathing Pepita’s 
forehead,—began to cry. 

“ So that explains everything,” she sobbed. “ Oh, 
my dear, brave, little Pepita; and I called her an 
obstinate child.” 

At that moment Pepita opened her eyes, 

“ Perico,” she whispered faintly. " Is Perico 
safe?” 

“ Yes, dear, Perico is quite safe,” Miss Dale an¬ 
swered, smiling through her tears. “ Lie still and 
don’t try to move just yet. There is nothing to 
worry about any more. Everything is going to be 
all right.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


CONCLUSION 




H 


OW soon do you think it will come, 
Aunt Amy ? ” 

Miss Dale closed her book and looked 
anxiously at the flushed, troubled little face on the 
pillow. She had been sitting by PepitaV bedside, 
reading aloud, for the past two hours, but she had 
her doubts as to how much of the story her patient 
had really heard. 

“How soon will what come, dear?” she asked, 
although she thought she knew. 

“ The telegram Papa promised to send as soon as 
he had seen the captain of Perico’s ship. I 
thought perhaps it would come this morning, but it 
is afternoon now. Does it take a long time for a 
telegram to come from New York? ” 

“ It sometimes takes several hours,” Miss Dale 
told her cheerfully. “ It depends upon how busy 
the wires happen to be. You may be sure your 
father will let you hear just as soon as he possibly 


can. 


a 


Pepita heaved a long sigh. 

“ I did not know a day could seem so long,” she 

3*7 





318 PUZZLING PEP IT A 

said. “ It seems a month since Papa and Perico 
went away yesterday afternoon. Papa said they 
would take the night train from Boston to New 
York, and go to the ship early this morning. 
Should we not have heard from him before now? ” 

“ Well, dear, you see, the captain of the ship may 
have been on shore, and it may have taken hours to 
find him. Then there may have been arrangements 
to make before things could be finally settled.” 

Pepita buried her face in the pillow with a little 
shudder. Miss Dale put out her cool hand and took 
one of the child’s hot ones. 

“ You must try not to worry so much, Pepita,” 
she said kindly, but firmly. “You are making 
yourself ill. Your father is doing everything in 
his power to help Perico.” 

“ Oh, I know he is,” cried Pepita. “ He has 
been so kind; Perico said he did not know any one 

could be so kind. But if that poor boy-” 

Sobs choked her, and she did not finish the sen¬ 
tence. 

Miss Dale was very much troubled. It was Mon¬ 
day afternoon, two days since Perico’s melodramatic 
appearance on the stairs. Twenty-four hours ago 
Captain Hawthorn and Perico had left for New 
York, and Pepita was fast working herself up into 
a nervous fever. Anxiety for her cousin, com¬ 
bined with the pain in her ankle, had caused two 
almost sleepless nights, and the child was growing 



CONCLUSION 


319 


more restless and feverish every hour. It was. evi¬ 
dent that something must be done to turn the cur¬ 
rent of her thoughts. 

“ Pepita,” Aunt Amy said decidedly, “ this is 
really very foolish. Your father is doing all that 
can be done, and he feels sure that if Perico will 
make a frank confession, he will not be severely 
punished. That boy may not have been badly hurt, 
after all. Perico was too much frightened to wait 
and see what had really happened. Now let me 
read you another chapter in this nice book Isabel 
sent. It is really interesting.” 

“ You are very kind, Aunt Amy,” said Pepita, 
struggling to check her sobs, “ but I am afraid I 
cannot listen to the story to-day. I do not want to 
be impolite, but when one is very anxious about one 
thing it is not possible to think of others.” 

Miss Dale smiled in spite of herself. 

“ I know it isn't easy, dear,” she said, “ but I am 
afraid it has to be done sometimes. Think of how 
anxious poor Mrs. Callahan must have been in those 
first days when Jimmy was in the hospital. Sup¬ 
pose she had told her customers she could not wash 
for them, because she was worried about her little 
boy. I am afraid some of them might have told her 
she need not come to their houses any more.” 

Pepita looked somewhat impressed. 

“ I never thought of other people,” she said. “ I 
am afraid I was only thinking of myself. Aunt 


320 


PUZZLING PEPITA 


Amy, don’t you think Perico was very brave to go 
to New York with Papa and confess what he had 
done ? ” 

“ I think Perico will turn out all right,” was 
Aunt Amy’s rather evasive reply. “ I did not have 
much conversation with him, as we don’t speak 
each other’s languages, but your father was pleased 
with him in the end, although at first he was very 
angry that you should have been made so unhappy. 
Perico was thoroughly sorry and ashamed of him¬ 
self, and that was the very best sign, your father 
said.” 

“ It was a very terrible thing to have to do,” said 
Pepita. “ I don’t believe any one knows how proud 
Perico is, or how hard it is for him to say he is 
sorry. Even when he was a little boy and got into 
mischief, he always hated to confess to Uncle 
Miguel. He admires Papa very much, and after 
Papa had talked to him for a long time Perico told 
me he understood things better than he ever had 
before. If you would not think it impolite, I would 
like to tell you something he said yesterday just 
before he went away.” 

“ I shall not be in the least offended, I promise,” 
said Miss Dale smiling. “What did Perico say?” 

“ He said he had no idea any Americans could be 
like you and Papa. I am afraid he did not have a 
very good opinion of Americans.” 

Miss Dale laughed. 


CONCLUSION 


321 


“ I am sure I appreciate the compliment/’ she 
said; “but I have an idea that Perico admires a 
certain small cousin of his much more than he does 
your father or me.” 

Pepita looked pleased, but rather puzzled as well. 

“ I don’t see why he should,” she said simply. 
“ I did nothing that I should be admired. I am 
afraid I was very foolish, but when I thought the 
house was burning I had to warn Perico.” 

Miss Dale said nothing, but gave the little hand 
she was holding an affectionate squeeze. What was 
the use in trying to explain? Pepita would not 
have understood. She believed she had simply done 
her duty, that was all. There was a short silence 
which Pepita broke by saying: “ As soon as I know 
Perico is really safe, I shall be very happy. He 
was so kind before he went away. He used to 
think me a coward, and I know I often made him 
angry, but yesterday he told me he should never 
be ashamed of me again.” 

“ Really,” said Miss Dale with a rather peculiar 
smile. “ How very noble of Perico. But hark, 
isn’t that the door-bell ? ” 

Pepita gave a little cry and started up, as if she 
were going to jump out of bed, but Miss Dale laid 
a detaining hand on her arm. 

“ Lie still, dear,” she said; “ remember your foot. 
It isn’t a fire this time, you know,—only the door¬ 
bell. It may be some one to see Aunt Jane, but I 


322 


PUZZLING PEP1TA 


will go and find out.” And she hurriedly left the 
room. 

Pepita lay back on her pillow and clasped her 
hands. Her heart was throbbing so that she could 
scarcely breathe, and her lips felt stiff and dry. 
She tried to murmur the little prayer she had been 
saying over and over ever since her father and 
Perico had started for New York. “ Oh, dear God, 
please, please take care of Perico and don’t let any¬ 
thing terrible happen to that other poor boy. Aunt 
Dolores and Uncle Miguel love Perico so; it would 
kill them if he had to go to prison. Oh, dear God, 
for Jesus’ sake, please, please.” 

Her suspense was not of long duration, however, 
for almost before she could have believed it possible, 
Aunt Amy was back in the room, and she was 
closely followed by Aunt Jane, with a telegram in 
her hand. Poor Aunt Jane was pale, and trembling 
almost as much as Pepita herself. 

“ Open it, Amy,” she said, holding out the tele¬ 
gram to her friend. “ I don’t think I could read it, 
I am so nervous. That poor, poor boy.” It was 
quite clear that at least one person besides Pepita 
was sorry for Perico. 

Miss Dale tore open the yellow envelope, glanced 
at the contents, and then read aloud: 

“ Everything satisfactorily arranged. Boy’s 
wound mere scratch. Perico fully pardoned. Re- 


CONCLUSION 


323 


turning by midnight to Boston; will be with you 
by noon to-morrow.” 

“ Oh, I am so happy, so happy,” sobbed Pepita, 
with her arms tight round Aunt Amy’s neck. “ I 
did not think I could ever be so happy again. It is 
like heaven, now the worry is gone. Dear Aunt 
Amy, I am afraid I have been very unreasonable, 
and given you and Aunt Jane a great deal of trou¬ 
ble. I wish I could do something for you; you have 
done so much for me.” 

“You can,” said Miss Dale smiling; “there is 
something you can do for me this very minute. I 
am not your mother yet, but I hope to be in a few 
weeks. Do you think you could begin to call me 
Mamma instead of Aunt Amy? ” 

“ Why, certainly I can,” cried Pepita. “ I have 
been wanting to say 4 Mamma ’ all the time, but I 
was afraid it might not be polite to say it before 
you had married Papa. I kept saying it to myself 
last night when I could not sleep, and it seemed the 
one little bright spot in all the darkness.” 

It was noon the next day when Captain Haw¬ 
thorn reached home. Pepita was still in her room, 
but was so much better that morning that Dr. Dale 
had allowed her to get out of bed and sit in the 
big easy-chair by the window, with the injured foot 
supported on a stool. She saw the taxi stop at the 
door and her father jump out, and then she waited 
in breathless impatience until her straining ears 


324 


PUZZLING PEP IT A 


caught the sound of approaching footsteps, and Cap¬ 
tain Hawthorn and Miss Dale came into the room 
together. 

“ Well, little girl, and how is the poor ankle 
getting on?” the captain asked, as he bent to kiss 
her. “ I am glad to find you out of bed at any 
rate.” 

“ Oh, I am a great deal better, thank you,” Pe- 
pita assured him. “ Dr. Dale says I may go down¬ 
stairs to-morrow, if you do not mind the trouble of 
carrying me. Now will you please tell me about 
Perico? It is very hard to be patient.” 

“ Perico is all right,” the captain answered cheer¬ 
fully. “ He sent you his love, and I have promised 
to telegraph him before the ship sails to-morrow, to 
let him know how you are getting on.” 

“ And that other boy,” faltered Pepita, lifting 
big, pleading eyes to her father’s face. 

“ The other boy is very fit indeed. If it were not 
for one arm in a sling, I might say he is as well as 
ever. He and Perico shook hands, and I will say 
for them both they behaved very well, considering 
the circumstances, though I don’t altogether approve 
of Spanish ways of settling differences. I like our 
American methods better. The captain of the ship 
appeared satisfied, and that was the main thing after 
all. I think he realized the fact that our friend 
Perico had learned his lesson and been sufficiently 
punished for this time at least.” 


CONCLUSION 


325 


There was untold joy and relief in Pepita’s face. 

“Dear Perico,” she murmured softly; “it was 
very noble of him to confess. I am so proud of 
him.” 

Captain Hawthorn looked rather surprised, but 
Miss Dale gave him a warning glance and he 
checked the rising words, saying instead: “ Perico 
behaved very well on the whole. I believe there is 
good stuff in the boy, for he had the grace to be 
thoroughly ashamed of himself, and when a person 
is once made to realize that he has been a fool, half 
the battle is won.” 

“ Poor Perico,” sighed Pepita; “he has suffered 
so much. When Aunt Dolores hears about it all, I 
think she will be prouder of him than she ever was 
before, because he has been so brave.” 

Captain Hawthorn and Miss Dale exchanged a 
rather amused glance, but neither said anything 
more just then; but when, a few minutes later, they 
had left Pepita, with Abdul cuddled in her arms, 
and were on their way down-stairs, the captain re¬ 
marked in a low voice: “The blessed little soul, I 
believe she really does think it was Perico who did 
the brave thing, and not herself.” 

“Of course she does,” smiled Miss Dale; “and, 
what is more, she would not believe us if we tried 
to undeceive her.” 


THE END 


















































































